


Taking a Shallow Breath

by hillnerd



Series: Next Gen series [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dramedy, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Other, Pining, Rivalry, Romance, Romantic Tension, Slow Burn, UST
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 18:54:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13417497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hillnerd/pseuds/hillnerd
Summary: Follow Scorpius and Rose through rivalry, tragedy, laughter, and missed moments over the years. Their relationship slowly evolves to become so much more than just friendship. Now it's time to take a breath, swallow the panic, and chose love.This fic follows two timelines/perspectives- Scorpius's in 'present day' and Rose's in the past.Starts with silliness/hijinks- but goes on to have serious plot.Rose/Scorpius Rose/OC canon adult relationshipsnot Cursed Child compliant





	1. Chapter 1

He took a shallow breath as the music began to play. What would normally be a cheerful throng seemed more like the screams of a banshee as the organist played with eloquence. Was Scorpius the only one hearing a distant screaming noise? Everything felt wrong as Rose walked down the aisle. She was more beautiful than ever, which made him blanch.

She was holding a bouquet of hydrangeas which almost perfectly matched her own blue eyes. He wanted to kick himself for helping her pick them out. He had sat beside her as they picked out flowers, chose where the wedding would be, picked the music, brought in his own mother to help with choosing the bridesmaids dresses.

In truth, he had only volunteered so he'd have a chance to smell her hair as she enthusiastically flipped through brochures, and watch her eyes twinkle as she found 'the one' of everything from place cards, to the ridiculous canapés. It was his fault she looked so happy, and everything was going to go perfectly. He gave an irritated cough.

She had decided to do something alluring with her hair he hadn't foreseen. There was an enticing tendril of red hair gently touching her pale neck.

"Oh God," he heard himself mutter through gritted teeth. "I can't do this."

Al surreptitiously shot him a perturbed look.

"Of course you can!" He managed to say this without moving his lips.

Scorpius felt his face paling as cold sweat trailed down his back. He gave a quick shake of his head. Luckily everyone seemed oblivious to his turmoil, save the ever supportive Al.

Albus smiled as Rose and her father were yards away from the altar. Scorpius couldn't do more than swallow, and give a glance to his best friend. He looked calm, as if Scorpius wasn't about to throw everything into upheaval and make the whole Weasley-Potter clan hate him, yet Al was perfectly at ease with this prospect. He had been the one to encourage this course of action in the first place.

_"There's no way I can stop this wedding… Rose will never forgive me, and your Uncle will kill me." Scorpius' hair was askew from all the times he had frantically clenched it in his fists._

_"Just wait for the priest to say 'speak now or forever hold your peace,' and then say something. Hell, you can grunt and throw things and people will get the point," Al said with a grin Scorpius couldn't reciprocate._

_"I shouldn't have waited til today… I should have told her months ago…"_

_"Well, you didn't, and now it's a bit late. She'll understand… you know… eventually. Though I think you'll have most of the congregation to worry about more than Rose."_

_"But on the wedding day? This is ludicrous… People never speak when the priest says that. They know better! They have weddings interrupted-"_

_"You mean called off-"_

_"-called off before the actual wedding day. I could have talked this out right after the engagement."_

_"Or maybe even before it," Al added, crossing his arms._

_"She was so happy… I just wanted her to stay that way."_

_"She won't be happy in the long run if that wedding goes as planned and she's married to a wanker who could never really love her fully."_

Rose had reached the altar with her father, who seemed unable to fully let go of her arm, until she gave his side a prod. Abashed, Mr. Weasley let go of his only daughter's arm and went to his place next to his wife, who was giving him a look that promised a dispute later. She had no idea she'd be busy trying to kill Scorpius later.

The tiny priest walked up the soon-to-be-wed couple, and spread his arms wide.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today…"

Somehow the sound had cut out, but no one seemed to notice other than Scorpius. His eyes frantically darted between the priest, Rose, her parents, and the ceiling. He'd never been overtly religious, but he felt himself praying someone strike him down with a lightning bolt to end his torment. Rose gave him a warm smile, which made his sense of guilt mature into full-fledged self-hate. Scorpius felt his chest constrict, his breath coming out in a strangled wheeze. Al gave him a worried look.

"Should there be anyone who has cause why this couple should not be united in marriage, they must speak now or forever hold their peace."

He couldn't make a noise as the priest allowed for a brief perfunctory pause. Al gave him a nudge, but no sound would come out of his mouth. The priest gestured to continue the ceremony, when Scorpius felt another burgeoning cough building in his lungs and gasped. He willed himself to say something, but instead airless gasps came out.

"Are you ok?" he heard Al whisper.

Rose, looking pale and pristine, gave him a look of concern, as did a number of people. He had to keep them from getting wed with something other than a cough, but before he could manage one syllable, he gave a heaving gasp, as everything suddenly went black as he fell into oblivion.

"-and I'm sure he'll be fine."

"Oh! You're awake!"

"W- what?"

He was lying on a lumpy mattress with scratchy white sheets. The large darkened room had a solitary lamp giving of a faint orangey glow, while a clock chimed noon. The shuttered windows made what could have been an airy room, stuffy. How he had gotten here, he wasn't sure. The last thing he remembered was-

"The wedding!" he said, trying to sit up, but a pair of small, forceful hands pushed him down.

"Lay back down, Scorpius."

He looked over to see Lily and Al standing over him.

"What happened?" he asked from his prone position.

"You flummoxed it up," said Al without much sympathy.

"He didn't flummox anything up," Lily said, giving Al a painful swat. "You had an asthma attack and passed out. Apparently you are very allergic to something in the chapel."

"It was probably those stupid flower arrangements next to each pew," Al added.

"Where are we?"

"St Mungo's."

"It's a good thing Lily's a Healer. Otherwise we might have been attending your funeral later this week."

"We would have saved on floral arrangements by just recycling the ones that offed him," Lily said with a smile. "That would have been terribly ironic."

"Where's Rose?" Scorpius suddenly asked.

"Getting herself some tea."

"They didn't go on with it?" Scorpius couldn't keep himself from beaming.

"Of course not. 'I can't get married without my best friends here,' she said." Al gave a fairly good impression of Rose, perfectly miming the way she exaggeratedly flapped her arms when she was upset. "Her git of a fiancé tried to talk her into going through it without us, saying how much it would cost, how it'd inconvenience everyone, and how their timed Portkeys took forever to arrange and were non-refundable."

"Brandon is not a git," Lily said in a well-practiced way.

"Of course he's a git," Albus added with finality. Lily rolled her eyes.

"Anyways, she said it didn't matter what inconvenience it would be, and followed us to the hospital in her wedding dress. Left Brandon to deal with the guests and took the Floo here. She's been by your bed for the last few hours, covered in soot, and looking a fright."

"Gee, thanks, Lily," came a voice.

Rose was standing in the doorway. She was precariously holding a cup of tea in one hand, and the sooty mass of her wedding train in another. As she trudged up to Scorpius' bed, and threw herself into the seat beside it, her hair was falling into its usual wild fashion of red curls, making his palms sweat.

"Are you doing all right?"

With her sitting so closely, he wasn't sure.

"He's fine," Lily answered for him.

"Good," Rose said, letting out a breath of air.

"You owe me almost a thousand galleons for all the food, flowers, venue and Portkeys, Scorpius," she said, before taking a loud sip of tea, her expression stoic.

"You don't think your fiance can pay for it?" Scorpius said with a short laugh.

"Oh, he can. But you're the one who stalled it by being a pansy."

She had a mischievous twitch of a smirk curling her lips.

"A pansy?"

"Yes."

"Well, then I'll make it up to you," he replied with as much bravado Lily would allow him. She gave a stern Healer's stare from where she stood.

"Oh, I know you'll make it up to me. You're going to help me with the organizing of my wedding again, only this time, you're footing the bill for it," giving him a fond smile Scorpius knew she only used with him. His mind suddenly went whirring into the wonderful thought of helping her with a wedding, only this time with him as the groom.

"And we only have five days to pull it off."

She tried and failed to blow a curl out of her face, as both hands were preoccupied with the tea and yards of once white fabric threatening to spill onto his bed. Considering how sooty her dress was, he wasn't sure which held the greater menace.

It took a moment to register she still was going to get married to Brandon Bradley. She didn't even call him by his first name. She had made a nickname of his last name. Who marries someone when they aren't on a first name basis?

"So, five days to marry Brad, is it?" The name stuck in the back of his throat like a hunk of sanitized gauze.

"That's the longest we can put off the wedding with Brad's family having to go back to Scotland, France, and everywhere else they're from."

She unsuccessfully tried to move the curl on her furrowed brown with the inside of her arm. Before he could stop himself Scorpius held up a hand and pushed the hair behind her ear. His stomach flipped. Did she notice how his hand lingered there a bit longer than it should?

"Look," he began, hoping his all-business tone would make her stay oblivious. "We can't pull off a giant wedding in that amount of time."

"We have to!" Rose exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration as best she could. "Scorpius, you're my best friend. If you were a girl, you would have been the maid of honour. Now, the maid of honour is supposed to help with the plans-"

"I'm not feeling very maid-ish right now. It's an impossible task. We can't-"

"Of course we can!" Al interrupted, speaking up for the first time since Rose had entered the room. A terribly gleeful smile lit his face. What was he playing at?

"But-" Scorpius said, giving him a dubious look, "five days just isn't enough time to do it."

"Five days will be perfect," Al said, grabbing the tea from Rose's hand and setting it on the floor. "But first, our bride-to-be needs to go and get on some normal clothes,"

"Al, what-?" Rose protested as he wrenched her out of the chair, pushing her towards the door.

"Seriously, giant lint balls are of no use planning a wedding. Now go put on some clothes, comfort Bert-"

"Brad," she protested.

"That's it. Comfort old what's-his-name, then meet us up at my place for wedding plans around two. We'll have food and everything. There we go!" he said, before firmly shutting the door.

"Fine, but it had better be Indian food," she called through the door.

They listened to her footsteps going down the hall, her dress getting caught on a gurney and ripping, and Rose cursing as only the spawn of Ron Weasley could, before Lily exclaimed:

"What was that?"

"Ok, so we all know you love Rose, right?" Al's disturbing grin hadn't left his face.

Lily looked on aghast.

"Wait, you love-"

"Well, now 'we all' know," Scorpius muttered, as Lily stared at them with wide eyes.

"Whatever," Al said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It's just Lily. So! You help her plan the wedding."

"Yeah… Your point being…"

"Don't you get it? You'll be spending all this time with her, only this time, you take a shallow breath, grow a pair, seduce her, and then celebrate YOUR wedding! It's the perfect plan!"

Al gave them a moment to let the sheer brilliance sink in.

"That is the stupidest plan I've ever heard," Lily said with the bluntness of a bludger.

"Well what do you suggest, Lilibeast? Let me guess, 'tell her how you feel.'"

"Well, yes! And don't call me Lilibeast."

"Or, at the best, you can get the wedding called off by one of them. Doesn't matter who, as long as they don't want to get married."

"Al, that is the most… _Gryffindor_  plan I've ever heard," Scorpius said with a shake of his head.

"It's brilliant, I know it."

"No. It's Gryffindor stupid, Al," Lily said, crossing her arms.

"Oh, come on! It'll work. We just need to help him!"

"You think this plan is insensate enough to function?" asked Scorpius with a short laugh.

"Well, I don't know what insensate means, but yeah. It'll function."

"Insensate means stupid, Al. This 'plan' is stupid," Lily added.

"Yeah, but it's stupid enough to work."

"Well, it won't work without me helping," said Lily, a determined look on her face. "Scorpius is going to need all the help his pale little self can get."

"So, what do you say, Scorpius? You going to go and win back the love of your life?"

Albus and Lily turned to him with inquisitive gazes.

"Er… yeah."

"With conviction like that he's sure to win her over," said Al flatly. "Don't bite my arm off with the enthusiasm, already. With us on your side, we can't fail!"

"That's right," said Lily in a prospective bracing manner. It fell flat as her smile couldn't seem to lift all the way at the corners of her mouth, but somehow Scorpius felt a bit bolstered. "You can't fail."

"If that Berthold character marries her, I'll just have to kill you. So what will it be? Death, or Rosie?"

"Rose," said Scorpius, though death looked to be the easier task to undertake.


	2. The Big Day

"The big day is just around the corner."

"Your parents must be so proud, Rose."

"Aren't you excited?"

No. Rose was decidedly not excited. The giddy anticipation she had once experienced had recently been invaded by an intermingling of doubts and insomnia, making excitement a far distant feeling. Every time she had slowed her thoughts enough to perhaps sleep, another worry would arrive to distract her. This was the day she should be looking forward to more than any other, but all she could feel was uncertainty. Her family, excluding Al, all seemed beyond jubilant about it. As each day passed, one more enthusiastic thought would somehow be turned into a panic inducing horror. The night before was the very worst she had experienced.

Around midnight Rose had fussed over whether she should wear her robes or not. She got out of bed to look them over, and decided that she'd not be out of place wearing them once on the train. At two thirty-five she decided to read up on the four houses and make sure she would definitely be a Gryffindor. At four forty-seven she checked to see if all her pertinent books were packed: this compelled her to organize them alphabetically by topic, which took over an hour.

By the time the sun was rising, Rose found herself absolutely compelled to reorganize her school supplies, minus the already alphabetized books. Remembering how James had managed to make all his new robes speckled with a sickly purple colour thanks to his haphazard packing of ingredients, she vigilantly made sure her potions ingredients were stowed so they wouldn't leak into her belongings.

Only around seven was she finally able to doze off. She was having a strange dream where Mum and Dad had decided to disown her for becoming a Ravenclaw when she heard a piercing squeal of "ROSIE!" A heavy weight landed on her stomach, both waking her up and forcing all the air out of her lungs.

"Hugo!" she grunted with half-closed eyes.

He sat on her stomach and a look of innocent merriment played across his face. He seemed completely unaware of her discomfort. Rose tried to recover with the dignity and decorum her mother would have liked. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and abandoned the course of decorum for repeatedly hitting her little brother as hard as she could with her pillow.

"You're going to HOGWARTS!" he giggled gleefully, unfazed by the pillow repeatedly beating his mop of unruly red hair. "It's the best place ever and you're getting to go there today, and be sorted, and learn stuff, and meet people, and do things!"

"Don't ever jump on me while I'm sleeping," she said, putting him in a loose choke-hold and leading him to the door.

"But, Hogwarts, Rosie, Hogwarts! You'll get to use your wand, and be sorted, and meet people!" Hugo said breathlessly as she tried to wrestle him out the door.

"You said that already. Now get out of my room, Hugo."

"But––"

"Out, out, out!" she declared, slamming the door behind him.

"No slamming doors!" she heard Mum call from below.

"Yes Mum," she called back.

Seeing the time, Rose hurriedly put on her muggle clothes, her robes, tied her large amount of red hair back with her favourite blue ribbon, and then ran down the wooden stairs for breakfast.

Dad read the paper while munching on what looked like his fifth helping of toast, gauging by the heaping pile of crusts seated at his elbow. Mum was scratching a purring Crookshanks who was sitting in Hugo's long abandoned chair. The sound of him running back and forth upstairs and the occasional cry of 'Hogwarts!' abrasively fell down to their ears. Mum and Dad both ignored him with the ease only veteran parents could.

"I wish you wouldn't let the cat sit at the table. I always manage to get some of his fur in my eggs," said Dad from behind the Quidditch section of the paper.

"How do you know it's not your own hair? You're both ginger haired after all," Said Mum with a smile.

"Half of it is grey, Hermione."

"Like I said, how do you know it's not your own hair?"

Dad gave her a scowl he immediately belied with a fond smile.

"Last I checked there are no grey hairs on my head, thank you very much."

"Ron is just jealous. He's not as distinguished as you are, Crookshanks."

Dad gave a huff. Mum laughed and continued to scratch the ancient cat's chin, making no attempt to stop the cat from putting his paws on the table.

"With the way you let him get away with things, he'll take Rosie's place at the table within a day, and by the time she's back for the holidays, he'll have taken MY place."

Crookshanks took this as a cue to walk across the table to sit in Mum's lap, all the while throwing haughty glances towards Dad.

"Oh you nasty old beast," Dad muttered.

Rose sat at her place and started to dole some eggs onto her plate. They were still warm, as Mum always remembered to put a warming charm on their food in the mornings. Rose never seemed to be able to wake up as early as the rest of the family. The thought of her penchant for sleeping in leading to her expulsion flitted about in the transom of her mind, making her stomach lurch. She opted to force her way through the nausea, and started to shovel the eggs into her mouth with gusto.

"'Good morning' to you too, Rose," said Mum with a roll of her eyes. Rose swallowed the mouthful of eggs with a guilty look.

"Er, sorry. Thanks for keeping breakfast warm. Good morning. Nice weather," Rose rattled off as she buttered her toast.

"Looking forward to today, eh?" said Dad, giving Rose a warm smile.

"Yeah," she shakily said with as much energy as she could muster.

"You're looking a bit pale," said Mum.

"Didn't sleep much," she said, giving a shrug. Mum looked like she was about to placate her about worrying, so Rose quickly added, "I was too excited."

"Of course you're excited, you get to… oh how did Hugo say it?"

"'Be sorted, and learn stuff, and meet people, and do things,'" her Mum recited.

Dad laughed.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say Hugo is more excited than either you or Al about going. He's been talking about it non-stop for a week. Hermione, if he goes on for two, we're turning him over to Mum."

Rose silently hoped her parents wouldn't notice how worried she was about school. She also wished they wouldn't talk about it. Every time she was feeling remotely calm, someone would bring it up and get her mind in a tizzy again.

"What are you most excited about?" Mum inquired.

"Quidditch," Rose supplied, stuffing a large piece of toast into her mouth. "Spiphing off whish. Whatch da Kidditch scorsh ferda Cannonsh?"

"Don't speak with your mouth full," Mum admonished as Dad perked up.

She had a long talk with Dad about how the Cannons were the superior team, despite their lack of wins over the past century. All the while her Mum put Rose's unruly hair into a lovely plait and Hugo would occasionally interject nonsense moves he'd like to practice on the field. When Mum had finished braiding, Dad tied Rose's blue ribbon at the end of the plait.

"Blue for your eyes. Not any rival team or House," he said, putting a finger to her nose.

"Ron!" Mum called out. "You know that any House or team is fine!"

"Hmm…" said Dad, waggling his eyebrows at Hugo.

"Gryffindor and Cannons forever!" Hugo cried on cue.

Mum rolled her eyes and went up the stairs to levitate Rose's trunk to the car. Rose followed her up the stairs, but lingered behind to give her room one last look over.

As much as Rose was looking forward to learning magic, staring about her cheerfully painted room, she wasn't all that keen to leave just yet. She enjoyed waking up to Hugo's laughter every morning, listening to Mum and Dad playfully arguing as they made breakfast, and Crookshanks padding into her room to escape Hugo's wild antics.

She felt a pang as she saw the blank eyes of her stuffed toys looking back at her. After much internal debate, she decided to not to take them, and felt heartily guilty for it. Mr Snuggles, her favourite toy bear whose nose had faded from black to brown, was the one she would miss the most. No one else would have a stuffed toy, though, so she'd have to make do. She fiercely cuddled Mr Snuggles and whispered a small apology before going down the stairs.

"Do you suppose everyone else will be wearing their robes at the station?"

"I don't see why not," Mum answered distractedly. Rose looked to see the surprising sight of Dad getting in the driver's seat.

"Why is Dad driving? He doesn't have a license."

"Oh, he passed the test the other day. I don't know how, but they gave your father a license… Ron, are you sure you want to drive?" Mum asked as they buckled their seatbelts.

"Quite," Dad grinned, tossing his wallet into the backseat. "Look in there, you two."

Inside was an ID with a very unflattering picture of Dad on it.

"Ooo! It's plastic, Mum!" Hugo held it up into the sun to inspect it, making it glare into Rose's eyes.

"Got it only yesterday. Was certified a few weeks back," said Dad jauntily.

"I still don't know why you wouldn't let me go along with you for the test." Mum was looking the card over as if it were somehow deranged. "Buckle those belts tight, you two!"

"Oh come on, Hermione. I'm a good driver," said Dad pulling out of the driveway, and hitting a garden gnome that let out a string of curses for him.

By the end of their ride Rose was fairly convinced the card was a forgery and that Dad had never taken a driving test of any sort. They had nearly collided with no less than three cars, two busses, and five pedestrians by the time they arrived at the station. Somehow he always avoided them, though, which made Rose suspect he had mercifully charmed the car. When they parked Hugo asserted how Dad should always drive ("That was wicked!") while Rose and Mum clamoured to get out of the death trap.

"I'm driving back," Mum stated very firmly. "Who in the world gave you the license?"

"A Mr Applefinch."

"Did you Confund him?"

"Hermione, how could you ask that?" said Dad in a low voice, leaning in and giving her a kiss.

"Well, you did park well."

Mum flushed and gave him a smile that made Rose want to already be on the train and miles away. Luckily Hugo was too busy trying to stand on the back of the cart he'd just pushed to notice the soppy looks passing between her parents.

They reached the pillar for Platform Nine and Three-Quarters rather quickly, and Hugo pushed her cart through the barrier without prompting, which earned him a quick scolding from Mum for not looking for Muggles first.

The steam obscured most of the people bustling about the platform, making the gleaming red locomotive an even more majestic sight. The way the sun glistened and made the steam become shining white ribbons was perfectly entrancing.

Rose was pulled out of her stupor by the sound of Dad saying, "How about that last carriage?"

Mum and Hugo stayed next to the train and Rose and Dad boarded the train. He found her a compartment and put her trunk in the rack with a quick wave of his wand.

"Lots of memories on this train. It's where I met your Mum, Harry, and Neville."

"Yeah," said Rose, looking to her feet. She felt nerves tingling up her spine.

"You OK?" asked Dad.

Rose had so much she could say, but didn't know how she could possibly put it into words.

"Rosie?" said Dad rather quietly, sitting in one of the seats so he could look her directly in the eye.

She shook her head and suddenly felt her eyes begin to sting.

"I was nervous before I went to Hogwarts too, you know."

She gave him a skeptical look.

"Really, I was. I had five older brothers who had all done everything a person can do. They'd already been prefects, Head Boy, Quidditch Captain, and then the twins were about the funniest most popular people at the school. All I had was a nasty old rat for a pet, hand me down clothes, and the ability to play a mean game of chess."

"But you're a hero, Daddy," Rose let out. "You were fighting Voldemort in your first year!"

Dad looked surprised at her outburst, then gave her a smile.

"Is that what's worrying you?"

Rose stared at him with wide, pleading eyes.

"Rosie, you're my wild girl. You know how good you are at Quidditch, and how smart and pretty you are." Rose rolled her eyes at that last bit.

"How could you possibly be nervous when you have everything going for you?"

"I'll never be able to do what all you and Mum did."

"What? All I did was skate by with my grades, and all your Mum did was annoy everyone by being a know-it-all," he said with a laugh.

"Dad…" Rose said.

Dad adopted a very somber expression.

"No. You'll never be able to fight Voldemort, and thank God for that. I couldn't stand for my little girl to be off fighting trolls, camping with two teenage boys in the middle of a war, getting cursed at and tortured by Deatheaters…"

Dad looked out the window with a strange, slightly haunting look in his eyes.

"We did all that so you wouldn't have to, Rosie. Don't wish for anything like that."

Rose put her hand in his much larger one, which seemed to jolt him out of his reverie.

"I'll miss you, Daddy," Rose said.

"No you won't. You'll get so distracted by everything we'll have to remind you to write. But we'll surely miss you, Rosie."

He gave her braid a good-humoured tug.

They left the cabin together and went down the hallway.

"There you are!" Hugo popped out of nowhere; startling Dad and nearly making him slip down the steps of the train.

"You know you have to write to me and tell me about the people, and the ghosts, and the elves, and the portraits, and the stairs, and the spells! You'll have to tell us everything!"

"Well, not everything. A girl can afford a secret or two," said Mum with a smile, straightening Rose's robes. "I hope they get here soon, it's nearly time for the train to leave."

"I think that's them, Al," they heard Aunt Ginny's disembodied voice say in the mist.

They walked up to find Uncle Harry, Aunt Ginny, Al and Lily. James, who had a penchant for running off, was nowhere to be found.

"Hi," said Al, his thin face looking quite relieved to see Rose. She gave him a large smile. Knowing she already had a best friend with her at school, even if he was family, made her feel even more at ease.

She heard Dad say something about disowning her if she wasn't a Gryffindor, and though it was meant in a teasing fashion, she couldn't bring herself to laugh. Al looked every bit as dubious as she about the sorting.

"Look who it is," said Dad to Uncle Harry. "So that's little Scorpius."

Rose stood on her toes to try and finally see the name she had heard Uncle Harry and Dad laughing about a few times before, but all she could see was the tall figure Mr Malfoy and his pretty wife's dark hair. She had occasionally seen the Malfoys in Diagon Alley, but had never met their son.

She couldn't imagine anyone wanting to marry Mr Malfoy after all he did in The War, despite what Mum had said about forgiving him for the mistakes he made as a 'child.' The thought that such a man could have children made her shudder. He had even named his son something that sounded like a fatal disease, or terrible monster that would eat off children's toes.

"Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mothers brains," said Dad.

"Ron, for heaven's sake. Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school," Mum admonished.

"You're right, sorry," said Dad, before quickly adding, "Don't get too close too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Grandpa Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

Rose intended on never speaking to the son of the Malfoys; that much she was very certain of. He'd probably be mentally subnormal too, so beating him at tests should prove to be very easy. As for marriage- the idea of ever marrying anyone was appalling. No one would ever be able to measure up to Dad, Granpa Weasley, and her assortment of Uncles. She never wanted to be married, unlike Lily and the other girls who had sets of dolls in wedding dresses and played house. She preferred playing with the boys, digging in the dirt, and playing Quidditch.

Now that she was standing in front of the train Rose was getting fairly desperate to board it. The curiosity was getting the better of her, and she also wanted to escape all the family talking about Hogwarts. Even though Dad had comforted her quite a lot, she could only think of how with every test they'd be expecting her to demonstrate her mother's intelligence and her father's ingenuity. Of course, her expectations were nothing compared to Al's, who looked so much like his father that strangers would occasionally look to his brow for the scar. Al was looking paler than usual today, and Rose assumed he was thinking about the Quidditch expectations. James hadn't ever seemed bothered by the same worries, which was an annoying habit of his.

"Hey!"

Interrupting conversations loudly was another slightly annoying habit of his.

"Teddy's back there. Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? Snogging Victoire!"

No one was particularly surprised besides James. Rose had already had a notion that the two of them were involved, considering how they'd been doing uncomfortably romantic things. Lily was the only one who actually had a reaction to the news. She had been planning Teddy-nuptials for years, and Victoire conveniently fit into her intricate plan for him to be officially adopted into the family.

"Time to get on board, Rosie," she heard her Mum say, as Uncle Harry and his boisterous family animatedly chatted off to the side.

"Bye Mum," Rose said, giving her a tight hug. "Any advice?"

"Just be yourself, no matter what," said Mum, placing a kiss on her cheek.

Hugo gave her an arm-numbing hug, before biting his lip so as not to be emotional. Dad was the last to step in and give her a hug.

"Just promise you'll blow all my grades clear out of the water, eh Rosie?" said Dad.

"I promise," Rose laughed, remembering how Mum had always said he would have made a great scholar if he weren't thoroughly uninterested in studying. Dad kissed Rose on the head, the turned her to the train carriage.

As she stepped onto the train, it gave a low whistle, and for a moment the steam coming from the locomotive blocked the sight of her many relatives, but out of the mist barreled James, and then Al.

"Why are they all staring?"

Rose looked about to that many people, both on and off the train were, unsurprisingly, staring at Uncle Harry. She had been used to this phenomenon for years now and had learned to ignore it, but for some reason it always made Al get agitated and take notice.

"Don't let it worry you. It's me. I'm extremely famous," Dad said with a quirked eyebrow, making them all laugh a bit. He always knew how to diffuse a situation with humour.

The train let out one last whistle before the train gave a small shudder and began to move.

Lily was starting to look red faced and upset as she waved; she'd be all alone this year, after all. Dad was holding up Hugo whose curly red hair merrily bounced with every wave of his hand. Not too far away from the crowd of her family, she spotted Teddy, his blue hair making him anything but inconspicuous. He seemed to be waving at another part of the train, though. He had a besotted look on his face, which meant he was waving at Victoire. Rose looked away, feeling embarrassed to intrude on this private moment between the couple.

James, who had gone off to see his friends, once again returned to the door. He gave furtive looks to make sure none of his friends were about, before wedging himself between Rose and Al, spastically waving and nearly hitting Rose in the face with his elbow. Al's spirit, which had been very uncertain earlier, seemed to have perked up.

Rose and Al were all smiles as they shouted their goodbyes.

"Bye Mum! Bye Dad! Bye Lily! Bye Uncle Ron! Bye Aunt Hermione! Bye Hugo! Bye Teddy! See you at Christmas!"

Mum threw a kiss to them and Dad gave a somewhat bittersweet grin he saved for 'His Rosie' every time she did anything that gave any indication she was growing up. The train began to pick up speed and the waving mass of redheads was lost amongst the crowd of other parents and siblings.

When the train rounded the corner, James gave a great stretch and patted them both on the back.

"Well, I'm off. Places to go. Funerals to arrange. See you at the execution— I mean the sorting ceremony!"

James was gone so fast neither Rose nor Al had time to utter a syllable back. The duo stood there, a bit like lost goslings, before returning to their compartment and taking a seat on either bench seat. Neither pair of feet quite reached the ground, though Rose's was considerably closer than Al's. Rose couldn't help thinking of the sorting ceremony thanks to James, and now the only thought occupying her mind was how she didn't want to disappoint her parents, especially Dad.

"Want to play some Exploding Snap?"

"No."

When Rose was younger she quite enjoyed the game. It's loud explosions were always fun to watch, but due to her large amount of wild hair, she hadn't been able to escape any explosion without at least one lock of hair on fire, which made her have very little affinity for the hazardous game. The fact that she was a fierce competitor and had never managed to win the game against anyone remotely good at it had no bearing on her loathing of the game.

"You just don't want to play because you can't win at it," Al teased, making Rose's cheeks turn a deep shade of red.

"That's not it at all," she said primly.

"It is!"

"Fine! Try and keep your eyebrows if you can!" she said with more bravado than she felt.

And so they played, she received yet another bad hand, and the smell of burning hair wafted around the cabin.

Rose was swatting at a particularly large flare when she noticed a small blonde figure, all in black, struggling to pull his trunk past their compartment door. His robes resembled the stuffy attires she'd seen some of the Grimmauld Place portraits wearing.

"Hah! That means I win again! It's a good thing we weren't playing for money, or you'd be completely bust, Rose!" Al laughed, rearranging the smoking deck.

They played another round or two. Rose had lost count of how many times he'd trumped her total, and was thinking of trying out her wand for the first time on his face. She was about to tell Al as much when the small blonde's head bobbed incredibly slowly past their compartment again. He was giving grunts of excursion as he dragged his large trunk behind him a second time. A frustrated look was plastered on his now pink-cheeked face.

Rose caught his eye for a moment. He quickly shifted his large grey eyes back to his trunk and dragged it away from their door as expeditiously as he could. Why didn't he have a compartment? The train had left the station over half an hour ago.

"It's your turn," Al prodded. How he hadn't noticed the boy outside their compartment, she wasn't quite sure.

"If you don't go soon, your cards are going to explode."

It couldn't have been easy for that blonde boy to lug his trunk up and down the passage, especially on his own. Perhaps she should go talk to him.

"Rose! Your deck!"

"What?"

With a loud bang her entire deck detonated, and purple tendrils of smoke blew into her face.

"Blast!" she coughed.

Rose exclaimed a few choice insults she'd heard from Dad, before sucking at her fingers that were burning something fierce.

"Whoever invented this game was completely mental!"

"Probably," Al agreed somberly.

"Want to play again?" Al asked, a wide satisfied grin on his face. He had somehow managed not to singe himself at all, while Rose looked like she had just escaped a burning building.

"No! I'd like to not be bald when we get sorted," Rose bit out, trying to separate the tips of her burnt locks that had fallen out of her braid.

"At the rate you were losing, you'd probably be bald in the next five minutes or so, yeah," he laughed, gathering up the scattered cards.

"I'm going to see where the food cart is!" Rose bit out, mostly as an afterthought, grasping for an excuse for a brief reprieve from the explosions and teasing.

She slid open the compartment door and saw the same blonde boy sitting on his trunk at the end of the train car's small corridor. He looked quite lonely reading the book in his lap, his old fashioned black cloak up to his chin.

Rose cleared her throat and he glanced up from his book in surprise, but then looked to some point on the floor behind her.

"Your robe is smoking," he said, pointing to the corner of her new robe that was indeed still slightly on fire.

Rose let out a yelp and beat at it with her hands before taking it off and stomping on it with her feet until the flames died out.

"I knew I shouldn't have played that stupid game," she said, giving the robe a small kick.

"Exploding Snap?" the boy queried.

"Yes."

"I'm not all that good at it either."

Rose felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

"Though I don't think I've ever managed to lose quite that badly," he said with a smirk.

"Oh really?" Rose answered snippily.

"Not really. The last time I played Exploding Snap I burnt off my eyebrows and caught my father's owl on fire."

"You caught an owl on fire?"

"Yes," he nodded, giving her a small grin. "Only a few tail feathers, though."

She gave a hearty laugh in turn.

"That poor owl! Your parents must have been furious."

"Not as furious as Angeus."

"Angeus?"

"Our owl. He wouldn't deliver anything for a week." The boy gave her a playful beam she couldn't help but return.

"Why don't you come and sit with me and my cousin? We have plenty of room in there. He might try and pull you into a game of Exploding Snap, but besides that he's fine."

"Er… No," he said, turning back to his book, looking suddenly somber again. "That's ok. I'm fine here, really."

"What, in the corridor? You want to ride here the whole time? That's bloody daft," Rose giggled.

"I don't have much of a choice," he said with a furtive look to another compartment down the hall.

"Why? Do you have bad breath or something?"

"What? No!" He gave her an affronted look, before laughing.

Rose's mouth twitched in amusement, but she put a stop to it almost as suddenly as the impulse came upon her. Her eyes had fallen to his trunk, and she now knew full well why he couldn't find a compartment. His name was emblazoned with gleaming silver letters.

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy

Scorpius saw her fixated gaze, and flicked his cloak over the incriminating text. His pale cheeks started to flush as Rose stared at him. This was the boy her father had warned her against. She had seen the looks pass between their parents whenever a Malfoy was mentioned. She knew the notorious reputation the Malfoys held and how no one in 'good society' would have a thing to do with them.

"Er… I said I'd check when the food cart is coming. Enjoy the rest of your book," Rose said with a perfunctory smile. She picked up her singed robe and turned on her heel. She was ready to sprint away when she heard a small sigh from behind her as he opened his book again.

She thought back to the unimposing figure of Scorpius struggling to find a cabin, his large trunk in tow, and embarrassingly stuffy robes. Rose had never been met with anything but well wishes and fond compliments about her parents. The idea of getting rejected just because of her heritage was a foreign and uncomfortable thought.

"I thought you were going to check on the food cart," he said quietly.

She had no idea how long she had been standing there, thinking, but she now felt thoroughly ashamed of herself.

"I'm not all that hungry… I just wanted an excuse to get away from my cousin."

"And me," Scorpius added in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"Yes, 'and you,'" she said shrugging. She looked down at her feet, embarrassed. He stared at her with an inscrutable expression that made her quite nervous.

"I've been told it's daft to sit in a hallway for the whole ride. I suppose standing there would count too," he said, before smiling at her in a sly sort of way.

"What's really daft is wearing those robes," Rose teased.

"What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing, if you're a vicar."

"Well, at least I managed to comb my hair today," he teased back.

"Ouch. That was ruthless."

"Yes, I thought so."

"It looked nice at one point."

"Of course."

"Rose Weasley," she said offering him a hand he took quite lightly before shaking.

"Scorpius Malfoy."


	3. Dressing Down

Scorpius Apparated to a secluded alley near his building. He had never much cared for the Apparation spot, as it seemed to be a good place for trash to accumulate, and a favourite spot for the local stray dogs to do a number of unseemly things. He was relieved he didn't land in a pile of something unpleasant, and made his way to the front of his apartment, which resembled the Apparation point's alley as much as a unicorn resembled blast-ended skrewt. Scorpius was excessively fond of the home he had. Rose had helped him pick it out.

" _Scorpius, this is the one!" Rose cried as she spun in the middle of the empty living room._

" _I don't know… I mean, it's awfully big for just me," he said, running a hand along the stair's banister._

" _But, it's beautiful. Think of the history it has," Rose said looking with longing at the closet that had centuries old graffiti. "Plus, it won't always be just you, you know. This would be a perfect place for a family. That little park is just across the street, and the neighbours are lovely."_

It was without doubt a charming place, but seeing her look so pleased was all he really needed to decide to take it there and then.

The elderly lady next door was outside with her small bug-eyed dog on a leash. Her hair was piled high on her head, and every piece of jewelry she owned hung off of her, giving her a slightly dotty look.

"Scorpius, how are you doing today?" she asked, jerking the homely dog's leash as it started licking Scorpius' trouser leg.

"I've had better days, but thank you for asking, Mrs McNavis. How are you?"

"Snotgurgle has a cold, I'm afraid," she said, pointing to the dog whose eyes were running, making the ugly creature look even more deranged. Scorpius had long ago decided that not looking directly at the dog made it somewhat less revolting.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Are you going to visit the vertrinorian, then?" he asked with a polite smile.

"Veterinarian. You need to work on that dyslexia handbook I gave you if you ever want to get better, dear boy," she said with a pat on his arm. For some time she had thought his lapses in Muggle terms were the result of dyslexia.

He quite liked Mrs McNavis, though she kept trying to diagnose him with different learning and behavioural disorders. From her perspective he never seemed able to pronounce things correctly, was always 'forgetting' things like electricity bills and locking doors, and was unfamiliar with things he should have learned around age twelve in Muggle school. He also would have a fire going in his fireplace year-round, which she thought was a sure sign something was off with him. Though it was annoying for someone to think he was mentally handicapped, he was fairly contented to let her keep thinking it. After all, explaining would break the Constitute of Secrecy.

"Yes. I'm afraid I haven't been working on that dyslexia handbook."

"How was Rose's wedding?"

"Delayed until Friday, I'm afraid."

"You'll have time for lasagna night, though?" she asked, a small frown on her face. For the last two years every Wednesday he would attend a lasagna night at Mrs McNavis's house, along with a few of the other neighbours.

"Of course. I always make time for that, Mrs McNavis."

"Really, Scorpius, the way you always call me that makes me feel so old. Why don't you just call me Barbara already?"

"Very proper upbringing and force of habit. I'll try and work on that," he said, waving her goodbye with one hand, while his other hand surreptitiously waved his wand to open the door.

"You need to lock your door, young man. This may be a nice neighbourhood, but you still need to lock the door," he heard her call from behind him. Snotgurgle gave a wet, hacking bark in his direction.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs McNavis," he said with a smile, before going into the house as quickly as he could. He gave a sigh and leant his head back against the closed door.

He could hear Mrs McNavis talking to her dog on the other side:

"Strange boy… Polite, but never seems to have his head in the right place… Come along, Snotty."

He slid down the door until he was sitting on the wooden floorboards, his eyes closed. He heard the padding of small feet, then felt a wet nose on his hand.

"Hi Libi," he murmured as the undersized striped cat purred and rubbed its head against his hand. Her soft fur and blatant affection brought mild comfort to him.

"Scorpius? Darling, are you there?" a voice called from the other room.

Scorpius gave a start and headed towards the living room, cat in tow, but not before checking that his hair was in place and his robes weren't askew.

"There you are!" she said in a relieved tone. Her dark hair was done up in a chic hairstyle and her makeup was impeccable, as usual. People always commented on how lovely she was, and he knew it to be true.

"I was so very worried about you. You need to be careful with that asthma of yours."

"I know. I usually am," he said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You look nice in those robes. Turn around. Let me see," she said with eager eyes.

He did as he was told, though he had grown to greatly dislike this tradition between them.

"Very smart! I would have been honoured to be seen at your side," she smirked at him.

Scorpius nodded, though considering that he went to the wedding with the intention to break it up and steal Rose, it would have proven to be an even more awkward affair if she had been his date. He could just imagine her apologetic expression to the crowds of onlookers for Scorpius' undignified behaviour.

"What a handsome young man I have!" she cooed.

"Mum…" he let out, knowing she enjoyed embarrassing him.

"Where's Father?" he inquired, not seeing Father's head alongside Mum's.

"I'm here," he heard a voice say. A pair of polished shoes arrived next to Mum.

"He hurt his back a few days ago and refuses to see a Healer about it," Mum said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's nothing that requires a Healer. I'm sure it will be just fine," said Father.

Scorpius didn't need to see his face to perfectly picture the slightly sour expression on Father's face.

"Yes, we both you have absolutely wonderful judgement when it comes to your physical state," Mum said, giving one of his shoes a pat. "He's fifty and thinks he can simply move a large oak cabinet by brute force. Excellent judgement."

"My wand had rolled behind it, and I had no idea that cabinet was made of oak," Father muttered.

"You had lots of important spells to do at midnight that just couldn't wait, I'm sure," Mum teased.

"I didn't want to wake you to use your wand."

"And I'm sure the House Elves were grateful for the lie in," laughed Scorpius.

"Oh! That hadn't even occurred to me! Yes, why  _didn't_ you ask Flumpy or Snoozy to get it for you?" said Mum, giggling a bit behind a well-manicured hand.

"We called to ask about Scorpius, if you remember," said Father.

"I'm sorry. You're quite right. Scorpius, did Rose look pretty in that dress?"

"Oh, honestly!" said Father. There came a great grunt, and after a moment Father's head was next to Mum's.

Mum gave a cry of "Draco! Your back!" which he heartily ignored.

"Never mind all that nonsense. Are you quite well, Scorpius?" asked Father, a look of concern deeply etched into his face.

"I'm really fine. Lily Potter was there and she healed me up quick as one can."

"Hmm," Father said, nodding. Every time Scorpius mentioned the Potters or Weasleys the same unpleasant look crossed his face. The look of bored distaste was present now too, and it hadn't lost any of its vigour in thirteen years.

"Lily's the one who Flooed us to let us know about you. We were both quite worried," Mum reiterated.

"Yes, well, as you can both see, I'm fine," Scorpius said, holding his hands out in an open expression for them to inspect him.

"Did Rose look pretty in that dress?" Mum asked. Father rolled his eyes, but quickly gave Mum a look of tolerant fondness.

"If you had accepted the invitation she sent you both, then perhaps you would have gotten to see her in it," said Scorpius.

"And make that idiot father of hers die of a heart attack on her wedding day? What a loss  _that_ would be," said Father in a sardonic tone. "You know, on second thought, I think we should have gone."

"I want to know if that dress worked. After all, I went to the trouble of sending her the catalogue and thought it would suit her best," Mum added, not acknowledging her husband's comments.

"She looked beautiful in it. Quite perfect," said Scorpius, staring despondently at a stray ember in his fireplace. He never thought the image of Rose looking so lovely could be such a source of displeasure, but seeing her looking so beautiful for another man made his blood boil, and his stomach plummet.

"Oh," said Father, interrupting Scorpius' thoughts. A cold look, unfamiliar to Scorpius, was on his face. Mum looked between her son and husband, eyes wide.

"I'm going to go find my will and cross some names off of it," said Father with a roll of his eyes. He struggled a bit to rise from the floor with dignity, before forgoing such measures. He gave an undignified and painful grunt as he shakily rose. Mum rose a bit to make sure he was steady, before quickly returning to the fireplace.

"I'm sorry, Scorpius. It's just the pain talking, I'm sure."

"Yes, probably," Scorpius lied, putting his hands in his dress robe pockets.

He knew Father's views on the Weasleys very clearly. Though he had always, in his own way, tolerated Scorpius' friendship with that most dreaded of families, Scorpius knew the very notion of him being involved with one of the red haired offspring was as distasteful to Father as Scorpius taking up with a goblin. Mum was a different story altogether.

She was very fond of Rose. Rose met all of Mum's standards when it came to future daughter-in-laws: She came from 'good stock' genetically ('despite that fuzzy hair, she is rather pretty'), she knew how to politely introduce herself to adults, she had at least one long line of purebloods in her background, had made good grades, and would one day be wealthy, if her parent's jobs and copyright placements had any say in it. After meeting those qualifications, any girl Scorpius wanted was OK by her.

"Darling, I'm sure she'll make the right choice in the end," she said very quietly, so as Father couldn't hear.

"She made her choice years ago, Mum," he whispered back.

"We'll see," she said, a knowing look on her face. "According to her horoscope she's due to have a change of heart any day now."

"That would be a great comfort if I put any stock in that Divination rubbish," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"You really should, Darling. After all, I'm right so much of the time."

"I wouldn't brag over a forty-five percent accuracy rate, Mum," he smiled. Libi started playing with dust motes near his feet.

"You're as bad as your father," Mum scolded, though she smiled in turn. "My knees can't take much more of this. They really need to invent a new way to talk to others."

"I heard that Rose's Uncle George has been working on a prototype for a more convenient way, actually. It's based on some Muggle idea from way back. They've been talking on a telephone system for over a hundred years. It used to be connected to a wall, but now they transfer voices through these little portable boxes the size of the palm of your hand, without them being attached to a network you can see. I'm not sure how it all works, but it involves some sort of setilites floating above the earth. He's trying to adapt it to a lighter or something."

Mum rolled her eyes.

"You'd best not mention any of that to your grandparents. They are coming in this week, and I don't want you to say a word about Muggles and their silly contraptions, no matter how interesting you find them. If they knew the things you get up to…" she trailed off.

"I wouldn't mention them to Grandmother or Grandfather."

"You've done it before!"

"I was  _twelve_  the last time I did that, Mum," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Well, I wanted to make sure. Will you be all right with this whole wedding thing?"

"Yes, yes… I'm going to be helping Rose plan the wedding for Friday," he answered, picking up Libi and scratching her head so as not to look Mum in the eye.

"Spending time with her already?" Mum grinned.

"It's of no consequence," he said in a formal tone that reeked of finality.

"Fine then," she said, getting up gingerly. "Be good. I love you."

"Love you too, Mum. Send my regards to Father," he called back.

"I'm here! Don't do anything stupid," Father shouted from across the room.

"I'll try not to," Scorpius dutifully answered, pulling away from the fireplace.

He went to his bedroom and changed into some casual clothes, and went into the bathroom. Scorpius stared at the pale, blonde man, his knuckles white as he gripped the side of the sink. He only had an hour to contemplate on his strategy and bolster his own spirits. The time with his parents had made him no more enthusiastic about his impending task. In fact, he was now more hesitant about it than ever before. He didn't lack determination: no he had that in spades. What he lacked was an idea of how to go about it. He usually prized himself as intelligent, but as he glared at himself in the mirror, he realized not even the most minuscule bit of inspiration was going to hit him.

Al had talked about it like it was something people did every day. Scorpius knew of no precedent for stealing a woman from her fiancé days before they are supposed to get married for a second time. He was just about to bring out a history book for inspiration when there was a knock at his door. He gave a great sigh: at the rate he had visitors coming over he wouldn't ever have a moment of revelation.

Another, more pounding knock thundered in his ears.

"I'm coming," he said, not wanting to reward their impatience with a speedy reaction.

He went at an ambling pace until he heard a shouted swear and the sound of many things being dropped. He hurried and opened the door to see Lily looking venomous, assorted boxes and bags strewn around her ankles.

"Lily?" he asked, quite befuddled. She had never shown up on his doorstep without at least two other people present before.

"I'm not picking that up," she said, indicating the mass of boxes and bags on his doorstep. Walking in with much entitlement, she walked up his stairs and started opening doors.

"What are you doing here?" he hesitated to ask.

"Trying to find your bedroom," said Lily, opening the door to one of his quest rooms. "How many bleeding rooms does a bachelor need?"

He reached for a box when he saw a pair of feminine green shoes standing in front of him, a striped skirt waving in the crisp breeze. Looking up he saw Magnolia Longbottom, holding a large amount of boxes similar too Lily's collection.

"Where do you want these, Lily?"

She walked into the house with the same amount of authority Lily had.

"Found it! In here, Mags! Third door to the right!"

Scorpius gathered the rest of the fallen bags and ushered them into his bedroom, feeling thoroughly bemused. Libi was quite taken with the paper sacks and started playing with one.

"So, what are all these boxes for?"

"Take off your shirt," Lily replied.

"I– What?"

"He should take his trousers off too, that way we know what we have to work with," Mags added.

"What? No!" he declared with as much dignity as he could, taking a step back from the two perilously indecorous women. He would be hesitant no matter who they were, but given that they were two years younger than himself, and he didn't know either intimately, he couldn't help but recoil from this effrontery.

Lily gave him a knowing look and smiled.

"Honestly, it's not as if I didn't see you naked earlier today when I put you in that hospital gown, Scorpius. We're not asking you to remove your boxers."

Scorpius stood agog and his cheeks flushed. Lily rolled her eyes and put out a demanding hand.

"Now are you going to take your clothes off or am I going to have to spell them off of you?"

"Why are you asking me to take my clothes off?" he asked in an embarrassingly wobbly voice.

"To figure out what you should dress in, of course," Mags added with a cheerful beam.

"I told you you'd need my help, and so I'm here with backup. We only have fifty-eight minutes until lunch with Rose, and we want you to look your best," Lily explained, giving him a fond smile that somewhat calmed him.

"Now strip!" she ordered, and this time he complied.

His ears started to burn as they studied him with the same cold precision a potions master would an ingredient he was about to slice into pieces.

"His shoulders are wider than I thought. We'll need to up it a size, I think."

"And take in the waist, for sure. He certainly is thin."

"I think we should go with green. It brings out an intensity in his eyes."

Mags pulled out a mauve coloured measuring tape that started to magically whir around him. They had to place the cat outside the room, as Libi seemed to find it the most entertaining toy she'd seen in ages.

"Hands out at the side, please," Mags said as she and Lily started up-ending the contents of the boxes and bags onto his bed.

"Where did you get all these clothes from?" he asked, looking over at the ever growing pile of expensive looking garments.

"Giordano's."

Mags started holding different tops up to his chest. Upon seeing his questioning look she elaborated, "He's the fashion designer I work for. He lets me have a go at last season's clothes, though I've never needed to go after his Wizard's collection before."

Scorpius felt a bit guilty for not keeping up with Mags after he graduated. She had always been rather polite to him, and one of Lily's best friends, and he had no idea what she was doing working for a fashion designer.

After a few more moments of holding things up, the girls decided on an outfit and had him dress in it. Mags set to work pinning it so she could resize it.

"They look Muggle… Not that there's anything wrong with that," he added after receiving a glare from both of the girls.

"Scorpius, these are the latest fashions from one of the top Wizarding designers in Europe," Lily admonished, her arms akimbo, making her very much resemble her mother.

"I thought you said they were last season?" he quipped.

"Only on a runway," Mags added. "Now stop moving and complaining. If I stick a pin in your side it will nearly be unintentional."

After much pinning, scolding, and waiting, the outfit was finished and on him. Looking in the mirror he felt he looked a bit too well polished and trendy for his liking, but knew he should show deference to their opinions.

"Scorpius, you look so posh!" Lily cried.

"Much more modern than those other clothes you were wearing," Mags said. She said it in such an earnest, kindly way he couldn't find it in himself to get mad at her.

They had about ten minutes to spare, but Lily decided he should get there early, as it would give Al adequate time to make fun of Scorpius before Rose arrived.

Scorpius Apparated outside of Al's door, and Al answered the door presently with a large bark of laughter.

"Please don't laugh," Scorpius let out before stepping inside the dark apartment that looked like a disagreeing committee had put it together. The walls were bottle green, the furniture an assortment of orange, black and white worn furniture. There was a collection of odd-coloured lamps, posters and rugs scattered haphazardly around the tiny apartment.

He sat down at the table and gave the sniggering Al a frown.

"I'm sorry, but you just look like such a wanker," Al laughed, setting up a variety of serving dishes for when everyone arrived.

"This looks quite good, Al," Scorpius said eyeing the Indian feast Al had whipped up.

"Oh it's nothing, really," Al said with humility. In almost anything else, Al would be boasting, but when it came to his cooking, it was a Fwooper of a different colour. "I'm still learning."

Al started to munch at some of the naan bread when he let out a strangled noise.

"Oh my God… Scorpius, they dressed you like Brian!" Al spluttered. Scorpius never corrected Al when he used the wrong name for Rose's fiancé, Brad. It gave him a hearty sense of satisfaction each and every time.

"No… No, they didn't dress me like him," Scorpius said, more to comfort himself than because he actually believed it. He now knew why the clothes had felt odd. They looked exactly like the kind of fashion forward trendy clothes he'd seen Brad wearing.

"They did! That looks exactly like something that arse would wear!" said Al, aghast.

Scorpius looked to the clock. With only minutes left before Rose got there, he wouldn't have time to go back and change. Lily and Mags would still be in his apartment, and the last thing he wanted to do was insult them after everything they had just tried to do.

"Well, don't just stand there! Do something!" demanded Al.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Wear something of mine?"

"You don't have anything clean."

"True," Al acquiesced. He tended to only clean things as he needed them, which usually meant a large accumulation of dirty clothes at the bottom of his closet, and only his dress robes hanging from a few lonesome hangers.

"It doesn't matter," said Scorpius, looking glum. "At least I'll look as… as fashion forward as her fiancé."

"Augh!" Al said with a shake of his messy hair. "Never say anything remotely resembling that phrase in any way ever again!"

Scorpius laughed.

They heard a knock at the door, and Al languidly answered it with a wave of his wand. Rose came in, looking flushed and lovely. Scorpius fidgeted with his robes.

"Hey mates," she said with a quick wave, removing her blue cloak. Without a second glance at Scorpius' new attire, she made a beeline for the dining room table. "I'm famished! I haven't eaten anything since yesterday."

"Why?" asked Al. The thought of not eating food for extended periods of time was clearly a disturbing thought, according to his look of horror.

"I didn't want to be burping up essence of breakfast at the ceremony," said Rose, serving some chicken tikka masala to herself, and promptly eating a large amount of it that made her freckled cheeks bulge out in what should be a repugnant manner. After years of eating around Rose, both Scorpius and Al had grown quite immune to her inability to eat daintily without a concerted effort.

"Dish ish delishush, Aw," she said through a full mouth.

"You just think that because you're hungry," said Al, serving himself.

Both Rose and Scorpius rolled their eyes.

"Al, if you weren't any good, you wouldn't have become a sous chef to such a prestigious restaurant," said Scorpius.

"You'd be serving slop at some rotten food stand," Rose said bracingly. "You're the best cook I know!"

"And she knows the likes of Hagrid, so you know what high praise that is," smirked Scorpius.

Rose harrumphed. Al just stared into his dish.

"No, no, Al," said Scorpius. "I'd wager you are a bit more proficient in the kitchen than Hagrid."

"Much! Though you can never outshine his rockcakes—"

"I think you might be able to cook soup even better than his."

"Your tea might even have less dust in it than Hagrid's."

They both started laughing. Al gave a mutinous glare into his masala, but finally gave into a smile when Rose elbowed him in the side.

The rest of the meal was spent eating, laughing, and scheduling a bevy of tasks for the upcoming nuptials. Everything from picking out new flower arrangements (and discerning which were the cause of Scorpius' asthma attack) to getting new Portkeys arranged were put into Rose's planner with a flourish of her blue quill.

"That should do it, then," said Rose, giving a relieved sigh. She laid her head on the back of the couch and closed her eyes, as Al gathered the dishes and started cleaning them meticulously buy hand.

"No more asthma attacks," Rose moaned to the room.

"I'll try not to interrupt your wedding with one again," Scorpius said quietly.

Rose opened up an eye before sitting up and looking suddenly cross.

"It's not that you interrupted my wedding, you berk. I was really worried about you!" she said, pointing a finger into his chest.

"You were so pale, and weren't breathing. All I could do was panic and cry. At first I couldn't even get my bloody wand out of my stupid dress, and then I couldn't remember the spell to help you. I just sat there useless as Lily saved you, and I couldn't remember a single spell to help."

Rose's eyes unexpectedly began to look glossy.

"I never want to see you looking like that again. You can interrupt a thousand weddings, just never let that happen again, Scorpius," she said with a vigorous shake of her head, holding her arms around her stomach as if the very thought made her ill.

"I'm sorry I worried you," he said, putting an arm around her shoulder.

She leaned her head onto his shoulder and took a deep breath. Her hand snuck up to his chest and patted it.

"I'd be lost without my best friend," she said in a small voice. Scorpius inhaled deeply, smelling that earthy scent that always followed Rose wherever she went. His arms snaked their way around her, while her red curls were splayed across them both, and Rose released the breath she had taken. One of her hands was making circles on his chest, while the other seemed pleased to just hold him. He could stay there, holding her forever, and be perfectly contented.

A self-consequential knock disturbed them both out of their reverie.

"Who in the world is that?" Al harrumphed, making his way over from the kitchen. He opened the door with a wave of his wand.

Looking over Scorpius saw, to his horror—

"Brad!" cried Rose.


	4. Sorting Things Out

Rose stood before him a moment, smiling, before she sprinted to the compartment door and threw it open with equal enthusiasm, startling Al nearly out of his seat, and making him drop his Quidditch magazine.

"Al, come help me get this trunk!" she said, giving Scorpius a smile from the doorway. Though his expression was full of alarm, he managed to give her a grimace of a smile.

"What trunk?" Al asked, not looking inclined to move any time soon. He picked up very wrinkled periodical and continued to read it.

"Scorpius's," Rose said with a vague wave towards a very still Scorpius.

"Wait. Scorpius Malfoy?" Al cried rather loudly, trying to poke his head out the door and get a look at the infamous Malfoy spawn. Startled at her cousin's rude outburst, Rose gave a great 'shh!' before pushing Al back into the compartment and shutting the door between them. Rose suddenly realized she could have handled the situation with more delicacy.

Scorpius determinedly stared at a spot on the wall.

"It'll be just a moment!" she said in a forcibly cheery tone.

Scorpius gave her a quick nod, but did not bring his eyes to meet hers.

Rose entered the compartment and quickly shut the door. Biting her lip, she turned around to face Al, who was giving her a perplexed look.

"Now, why do you want a Malfoy in here?" Al asked.

"Because he's all alone and he's rather nice," replied Rose, giving her cousin a pleading look. He stared at her for a moment, his mouth a tight line, his expression grim.

"Please, Al?"

Al took this as a cue to open the door, despite her protests, and go into the hallway.

"So, you're Scorpius Malfoy?" asked Al in his gravest of voices. He only used this in the most serious of circumstances, and the fact that he was using it now made Rose become quite nervous.

"Yes. And you're Albus Potter," said Scorpius, not budging an inch.

Al nodded.

Again the boys fell into silence and stared at each other. Rose half expected curses to fly from the other at any moment. Scorpius had a weird, solemn little look on his face, for Al looked like he had come to a conclusion.

"Right…Well, let's get that trunk, then," Al offered, giving Scorpius a tight smile that clearly said he was going to forcefully ignore his last name.

Scorpius smiled back.

Rose stood to the side a bit flabbergasted as the boys worked together to move the heavy trunk, but soon she was smiling from ear to ear. Never could she have imagined an easier introduction happening between a Potter and a Malfoy.

The boys managed to get the trunk into the compartment, but couldn't quite manage to get it in the rack above the seats, and instead opted to use it as a makeshift footrest and table. Rose offered to try a spell, but they decided that the possible effects of a backfired charm involving a very heavy trunk in such a small space were not worth it.

Scorpius had a chess set they played with for some time, and he was quickly beating the other two multiple times. Al found it amusing, and Rose found it annoying. She could not, in good conscience, stay too mad about losing. Scorpius was always very humble about his wins, and his glee over winning was almost imperceptible. He then tried to help her beat Al, which made Rose forgive him for his superior skills in chess. She of course refused the help, as a win didn't count unless earned completely on her own, but the act definitely put him fully back in her favor.

They were about to play another round when the witch with the trolley of food came by. Scorpius and Al bought a titanic amount of sweets, which Rose tutted at. She was told not too eat too many sweets or she'd ruin her teeth and spoil her appetite. She was quite set on only indulging in only one sweet, but when faced with the variety of choices offered, she quickly threw that plan to the wind and ate every bit as much as either of the boys.

They merrily ate until they were so full Rose thought they might have to be rolled into the sorting ceremony. Unable to eat the last of their chocolate frogs, they decided to race them down the hallway. Rose's was in the lead when a passing third year Ravenclaw accidentally stepped on her frog with a sad, squelched croak.

"Sorry!" said the boy, examining the bottom of his shoe in a wobbly fashion.

Rose glared at the boy for ruining her first perfectly sound win of the day, while the other two retrieved their own frogs.

"You should watch where you're stepping!" exclaimed Rose, crossing her arms and fixing the tall brown-haired boy with her fiercest of stares. He looked mildly familiar to Rose. She thought she had seen him before in Diagon Alley at Dad and Uncle George's shop, and was fair determined to try and get him banned.

"Really, I am sorry. I'm a bit clumsy at times, I'm afraid," the boy said with an apologetic look, using a spell to clean up the chocolate from his shoe, and siphon out the brown smudge from the carpet. He searched about himself, looking in several pockets, but finally found what he was looking for. He reached into his inner robe pocket and handed Rose a replacement frog.

"You first years?"

"Yes," Rose answered in a clipped tone for the group. She was still put out over him spoiling her race.

"I didn't think I recognized you. I hope you have good luck with your sorting…" he trailed off waiting for a name.

"Rose Weasley."

"I'm Brandon Bradley," the boy smiled. His dark blue eyes seemed to twinkle of their own accord. Al coughed a bit, which startled Rose out of her distraction.

"Oh! And this is my cousin Al Potter. And our friend Scorpius Malfoy."

The two waved in a bored fashion, clearly not caring to talk with the boy who ruined their game.

"Oh!" a glimmer of recognition was in Brandon's eyes. "You're James Potter's brother, right?"

Rose couldn't help but admire Brandon for not mentioning their parents. Most people couldn't wait to bring up their famous parents the moment they met. She also liked how he was also already wearing his neatly pressed school robes. It was hard to remember why she was mad at him.

"Yeah, James is my brother," Al responded blandly.

"Hoping to be in Gryffindor with him?"

"I dunno," Al said with a shrug, looking suddenly agitated.

"Well don't let it worry you if you're not. All the houses are really great. I was the first Ravenclaw in my family in generations, but I wouldn't want to be sorted anywhere else."

"Oh," said Al, looking both worried and mad. "Rosie, I'm going back to the compartment."

"Nice to meet you too, Al," Brad responded, not letting Al's rudeness dampen his smile.

Al gave a short nod before retreating back into the compartment.

"Well, I'd better be getting back to my friends before they think I've fallen from the train or something," said Brandon, a small grin pulling at his mouth.

Rose laughed. Scorpius didn't.

Brandon shook hands with both of them before returning to the cabin he'd come from.

"Enjoy your frog, Rose."

Brad gave her one last smile. She felt her ears burn a bit, and felt herself staring after him. Rose felt a bit of an unfamiliar sensation in her stomach. It was probably all the sweets she had eaten earlier.

She was startled from her reverie by the sound of a throat clearing.

Scorpius was looking at her as if she had just been dancing to get rid of wrackspurts (a pastime often enjoyed by a friend of the family Auntie Luna, according to her dad.) She went back to the compartment, making sure to ignore Scorpius' quizzical look.

Al offered to play Exploding Snap, which was answered with a resounding chorus of 'No!' from Rose and Scorpius, who both dissolved into laughter. Al didn't seem to be very amused by this. Instead of laughing he crossed his arms and stared out the window.

For the next few hours Al didn't have much of anything to say, though they were visited by a few cousins. Dominique stopped by to say hello, but was quickly called off by her gang of boys, and Molly visited as well, wearing a few facial piercings Rose was certain had not been visible at the Burrow. Scorpius and Rose had a lot of fun talking about the different Quidditch teams they liked, what subjects they thought they'd enjoy most, and what sort of pets they had. Scorpius had an owl named Artemis who would be meeting him at the castle, as he didn't like the thought of keeping her in a cage the whole train ride.

"Though I'm sure some owls don't particularly mind it," amended Scorpius, eyeing Al's owl. "What's your owl's name, by the way?"

When Al failed to answer Rose piped up, "Kegan."

Each time they entreated Al to speak he grew more sullen. Rose was set to ignore him entirely, but Scorpius seemed quietly determined to try including her unpleasant cousin, despite Al only deigning to add the occasional grunt or shrug to the conversation.

It had finally turned to night, the countryside had changed drastically, and the random sounds of conversations and explosions were a bit more subdued than they had been earlier in the day. Al had nodded off, and Rose was so hungry that her stomach kept making embarrassing sounds that Scorpius had the decency to ignore.

"Rose Weasley, what happened to your hair?" asked a feminine voice from the door.

In their doorway stood Rose's cousin Victoire, looking pretty and well manicured, her long strawberry blonde hair hanging in enviable loose waves. Rose suddenly recalled the state of her hair from all those games of Exploding Snap. She had met Brandon Bradley looking like that?

"Augh!" Rose let out.

"Exploding Snap," translated Scorpius.

"Ah! Well, here, let me help you with it," Victoire said in her usual mothering way.

"Thanks, Victoire," Rose said in a small voice.

Victoire spelled away the burnt ends, and re-braided Rose's disheveled hair, Scorpius determinedly looking out the window as if he had been caught watching something indecent.

"You and Al need to get your robes on. We'll be at Hogwarts within minutes," said Victoire to Scorpius. He nodded before waking up Al, and they both excused themselves to the bathroom to change. Victoire gave Al's hair a gentle mussing as he left.

"So, who was the quiet little boy with you?"

Rose responded with a slight cringe, "Scorpius Malfoy."

If Victoire was surprised she certainly didn't show it.

"Hmm, well he seemed very nice," said Victoire. She tied the blue ribbon onto Rose's now pristine hair and stood back. "Here, let me fix the robe."

With a quick wave of her wand, Rose's robes were once again impeccable.

Victoire clucked at some other children in the hall to stop running, and told another first year to change into their robes already. It was no wonder Victoire had made Headgirl. The silver pin shone brightly, almost unnaturally, making Rose suspect Victoire had recently spelled it to shine.

Rose gave her a quick hug as the train began to slow.

"You'll do us all proud, I'm sure," Victoire said with a smile.

"So will you," Rose grinned back. Victoire blushed a bit, before heading off for her compartment.

The train pulled into the Hogsmeade station, and Rose grasped her robes around her tightly. The cold wind from that morning was much more biting in the night. She got off the train by herself, and followed the booming voice of Hagrid.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, this way!" he called into the night, waving a great lantern. The mere sight of her half-giant friend made her feel warmer.

"Hi Hagrid!"

"Rosie!" Hagrid nearly shouted with his enthusiasm. "How are yeh doin'? Where's Al?"

"He's with one of our friends somewhere."

As she said this, Scorpius and Al emerged out of the crowd of students. Hagrid beamed at Al, and gave a polite nod to Scorpius, who stared at the giant man with wide eyes.

"Yer all comin' to tea Friday evening, still, righ'?" asked Hagrid, looking a little worried.

"Of course," said Al, with a smile.

"We wouldn't miss it," Rose said in a placating manner.

"Yer little friend is welcome to join us too," said Hagrid, giving an inclined head to Scorpius. "Best be gettin' in the boats, though."

Scorpius nodded, and the three of them found a boat to get in.

"FIRS' YEARS, THIS WAY!" they heard Hagrid Boom one last time.

As the last of the first years arrived and boarded the small boats, they began to glide across the lake. The ride felt a bit perilous to Rose, given how the blustery wind made the little boats churn and sway on the water, but as soon as the sight of Hogwarts was before them, all thoughts of doom seemed to Apparate away.

"Woah!" exclaimed Al.

Rose smiled, and turned to Scorpius who had a deathgrip on either side of the boat. They exchanged excited smiles for a moment, but Scorpius seemed more concerned with the possibility of falling into the depths of the lake than the exciting prospect of seeing Hogwarts for the first time.

When they finally reached land, Scorpius was the very first to get onto firm ground. Rose and Al laughed as they entered the castle's large doors along with all the other first years. At the top of the stairs was—

"Uncle Neville!" Rose cried, running the rest of the way up the steps.

"Hello Rosie," said Neville with a kind smile. "But it's Professor Longbottom during term, eh?"

"Of course," said Rose, giving him a hug. She hadn't seen much of him over the summer, as he had been in Madagascar during the summer months, collecting samples of rare plants. His wife Hannah and daughter Magnolia had joined him, leaving the Leaky Cauldron in the understaff's hands. It was quite odd being there without the sight of the Longbottom family.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" Neville said, as the rest of the first years joined them. "I'm Professor Longbottom."

Many of the first years started gasping and whispering amongst themselves at this. Neville had become a bit of a legend after defying Voldemort and beheading the snake with the sword of Gryffindor nineteen years ago. Neville gave them a moment to compose themselves before he began again.

"Through these doors is the Great Hall. You'll get to sit and enjoy the start-of-term banquet after you've each been sorted into your houses. The houses don't define who you are, but they are much like a family. You'll eat meals, share your dorm and common room, and will take classes with your house. As you all probably know, the four houses are Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin."

Al bit his lip and stared at the ground.

"Each has a long history of great witches and wizards, and each is very special in their own right. You'll all earn points for them with your triumphs, which will help your house in winning the house cup at the end of the year. Try not to get into too much trouble, because that will cost your house points," Neville concluded.

"So! Ready to get sorted?"

The first years gave a feeble 'yes.' Neville gave them a fond look before opening the doors of the Great Hall. "Then, follow me."

Rose gasped as she looked up to the ceiling. She had been told about it, and had read about it, but never could she have imagined how amazing the sight would be. The night sky's stars twinkled with excitement, and the crescent moon seemed to be smiling down at the Great Hall.

The crowds of chatting older students turned to look at the procession of first years. James and their cousin Fred were seated at the front of the Gryffindor table laughing. James gave a flick of his wand and pelted the back of Al's head with spitballs. He and Fred seemed to find it immensely hilarious. Rose helped Al get them out of his hair, both giving the pair of giggling boys angry stares. As the last of the first years arrived at the front of the hall, Neville stopped by James and Fred and whispered something in their ears. The two instantly stopped smiling.

Neville took what at first looked like a rag used to clean the inside of an oven and placed it on the lone stool. Rose nearly yelled out in surprise when the nasty rag started to sing. The idea of the sorting hat being so nasty and sitting on her head made Rose cringe a little. In all its use, had they never washed it? She was so fixated on the notion that she missed listening to her first sorting song, much to her chagrin.

And so the sorting started. All Rose could hear was her own heartbeat. The first years seemed to nervously cling to each other as one by one they were called to the crispy hat and their fate was announced before the hordes of clapping students. Was she the only one feeling dread? Was the room only spinning for her?

"Malfoy, Scorpius!"

Hearing his name seemed to jerk Rose out of her torpor. There were loads of whispers coming from the students. Rose held her head high and gave James a stern look when she heard him loudly utter "Slytherin for sure."

Scorpius had a somber, almost resigned look on his face. Unlike some of the other eager children who had run up to the hat to be sorted, Scorpius held back. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and then erectly walked to the stool.

He made an expression of quiet revulsion as the dirty hat was place upon his head, but his face became a mask of stoicism as he waited for the hat's decision. The hat sat upon Scorpius' head for a long time, but finally it gave a shout of "SLYTHERIN!"

Rose felt her chest collapse, and a breath left her she hasn't realized she was holding. The Slytherin table gave a smattering of applause, and Scorpius schooled his eyes to the ground as he slowly made his way to his house's table.

Rose wanted to go up and protest. There was no way he could be a Slytherin. He was kind, shy, modest: he didn't resemble any of the Slytherins she had met before, and didn't resemble the ones she had heard about. How could the hat had made such a decision?

"Potter, Albus!"

Another bout of whispers began to sweep the hall.

"He looks just like Harry Potter!"

"Where will it put him?"

Albus looked pale, as if he would faint at any time. He needed a prod from Rose before he stepped forward.

The hat slipped onto his head. The hall sizzled with more tension than it had for any of the other students. It took almost as long as Scorpius's sorting, but finally the hat let out a cry of "GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table applauded with great fervor, and Al looked tremendously relieved until the realization that he would be stuck in the same house with James seemed to strike him. He sat next to James who grabbed him around the neck and mussed his already untidy hair, which made Albus considerably less enthusiastic about his sorting.

It wouldn't be long before Rose would be sorted as well, but she wasn't sure that she trusted the hat to put her in the right house. She felt a pair of eyes on her and looked back to the Slytherin table. Scorpius quickly looked back to the hat as her name was called.

"Weasley, Rose!"

She was the last first year to be sorted and was feeling quite alone. Neville gave her a smile before placing the smelly hat on her head.

"Let's see… Let's see…" she heard a small voice in her ear. "Lots of loyalty… Ambitious… Very intelligent… Brave and passionate… Where to put you…"

Rose felt incredibly angry at the hat. First it had put Scorpius in the obviously wrong house, and now it didn't even know where to put her? Perhaps it was just to old to make the decision and needed new charms.

"And a large temper!" the voice laughed in her ear.

Rose gasped and nearly flung the nosy thing right off her head.

"Better be… 'GRYFFINDOR!"

Rose tore the thing off her head and smacked it onto the stool with a great 'fwump!' before running away to the Gryffindor table where her family cheered, and the lions yelled with equal enthusiasm.

Neville moved aside with the sorting hat and stool, before the headmistress, Professor Sprout, stood at the table and said, rather grandly, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!"

With a clap of her hands the empty dishes before them were laden with a sumptuous feast. Rose laid into it with the usual fervor she did at any fine meal. Announcements were made by Professor Sprout about banned items in the hallways, Quidditch tryouts, and had the students applaud a reluctant group of elves for their wonderful job with the feast.

Finally the students were lead in a chorus of the school song before dismissed to bed. Two prefects started escorting the first year Gryffindors up the marble stairwell. Rose spotted the blonde hair of Scorpius and ran to catch up with him.

"Scorpius!" she called.

He turned and gave her a dubious look.

"What is it Rose? We need to get to our common rooms."

"Yeah, I know, but… I just wanted you to know, that I don't care if you're a Slytherin, I'm still going to be your friend," Rose said, offering her hand to him. She wasn't sure she was being truthful when she said she didn't care, but decided it was the best thing to say.

Scorpius didn't take her hand. She was surprised to find him coldly staring at her.

"You care," he said very quietly.

"N-no I don't," she said, shaking her head.

Scorpius's brows began to pull down into a scowl.

"Well, maybe I care a little, but—"

"Then why didn't you say so?" Scorpius replied with a glare. "I always heard Gryffindors were terrible liars. Guess you prove them right."

"I wasn't lying!"

"Don't bother yourself, Weasley," he snapped, before pushing past her and heading towards the corridor his prefects had headed down.

"Weasley? But- but we're friends! We raced frogs together!" Rose said in a shaky voice.

"Why would I want to be friends with a stupid, lying Gryffindor? I'm a Malfoy. You're a Weasley. We're not supposed to be friends, right?" he spat.

"Well then you- you really do belong in Slytherin… I thought the h-hat was wrong about you, but it wasn't…"

"That's right, I am a Slytherin," Scorpius said, more to the ground than to Rose.

He looked like he would say something else, but instead turned and ran after his prefects who had gone ahead down a corridor.

Rose felt tears begin to well in her eyes, and her cheeks began to flush an embarrassing red. She looked around to find herself alone. She had no idea how to get the her common room. She knew it was a tower, but she didn't know what it could be. There was a dizzying amount of staircases shifting above her, and no students around. She sat and stared at her shoes, for how long she wasn't sure.

A hand touched Rose's shoulder, and she looked up to see the pretty figure of Victoire.

"Come on, Rose. Let's go to our common room," she said kindly, leading Rose up the stairs.

"He-he called me Weasley…" Rose mumbled. "I thought we were friends…"

Victoire nodded before saying a password to an obese portrait and gently pushing Rose through.

"There you are!" cried Albus. "Where'd you go? We turned around and you were gone."

"I'm tired… Goodnight Al. Goodnight Victoire," Rose said, not waiting for a response before heading for the stairs and pausing.

"Uh, which way do I go?" Rose asked sheepishly. Al and Victoire silently pointed the way to Rose.

She opened the door to find all but one of her roommates asleep. The noise of one of the girls still brushing her teeth resonated from the bathroom. Rose changed into her pajamas and quickly got in her bed, which thankfully ended up being next to a window.

She twisted the covers around herself and tightly shut her eyes, the sound of her roommate's teeth brushing lulling her to sleep, and the disturbing image of Scorpius glaring at her making her stomach churn.

Her father had been right. She should have known better than to trust a Malfoy.


	5. Insensate Enough to Function

"Brad!" cried Rose.

In moments his arms that had been contentedly holding Rose were grasping at thin air. She had quickly extracted herself from his arms, and in a trice has straightened her clothes. Her hair remained slightly disheveled, which somehow satisfied Scorpius. He stood and gave a short inclination of his head to Brad, hoping his expression didn't give away his anger about the interruption.

"Oh… it's Brendon. Wonderful," muttered Al. He stared at Brad as he would a chicken he was about to behead. "Come to use my Floo, have you?"

"Of course not," Brad said with a good-natured laugh. "I'm here to see my Rosebud."

He gave her a gratuitously soppy stare. She bit her lip and lowered her eyes in a charmed fashion. Scorpius felt such an overwhelming sensation of envy he thought he might hex something. He settled on imagining boring a hole through Brad's head.

"I'm going back into the kitchen. Tell me when he has left."

"Nice to see you too, Al," Brad said with a wry grin. He was always gracious when faced with Al's rudeness. This made Scorpius hate him all the more.

"Hello, Rosebud," said Brad, giving Rose a kiss that lingered a bit too long, a hand shockingly trailing up her side. Spotting Scorpius, her blue eyes went wide and she suddenly shirked away.

"Not in front of Scorpius, Brad," she said with a smile.

"Oh, sorry!" said Brad, grabbing Scorpius' limp hand and shaking it firmly. "Hey Scorpius!"

"Hello Brandon," said Scorpius in as nice a tone as he could muster.

"Always Brandon never Brad," said Brad in a singsong tone.

"Well, Brandon is your first name. I could call you Bradley if you'd prefer. I don't do nicknames," said Scorpius with what he hoped was finality.

Brad fondly rolled his eyes, before they took a piqued interest in Scorpius' neck.

"Nice robes! Are those Giardano?" Brad asked, reaching for Scorpius' collar. Scorpius quickly maneuvered himself away from the impertinent hand.

"Er, yes," Scorpius admitted, giving a sidelong glance to Rose who was giving him a curious stare.

"He's quite a good designer. I have at least five of his robes in my closet, don't I, Rosebud?"

She gave a snort. "Like I'd know. All I know about Giardano is that he's a short Italian man with a penchant for pinching his interns, if Magnolia Longbottom's stories are true. But since when do you wear anything like that, Scorp? You said that buying those overpriced robes was as silly as buying tea cozies."

Rose seemed oblivious to the vexed look cross Brad's face. Scorpius smirked.

"Yes, well, my sentiments are unaltered. Magnolia and your cousin Lily thought it would be fun to dress me up."

Rose cocked her head.

"What ever made them think of that?" she asked, her brow crinkled in confusion. "I prefer your own robes. Much more traditional and fitting for you."

"Agreed," piped in Brad.

"Why did you say yes to being their guinea pig?" queried Rose. Scorpius felt as if he had been caught doing something wrong, but wasn't sure why.

"Well, Lily just sort of showed up on my doorstep and barged into the bedroom—"

"She was in your bedroom?" she quickly asked.

"Well, she and Magnolia—"

"Both of them?"

"Yes. They had me—"

"Scorpius, who would have ever thought you were such a rascal!" Brad interrupted. Scorpius felt a surge of panic as Rose crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows.

"Yes. Who'd have thought," she said in a snipped tone.

Before Scorpius could even form a coherent thought, much less a syllable of contradiction, Brad sat down and took hold of Rose's hand, and her attention.

"So! I finished talking to all the guests, have saved all the food with preserving charms, and have made a list of possible new venues. I know I didn't help much last time, what with that important deal going on— but not this time. This time, I'm all yours."

"Do you mean it?" said Rose, the sweetest of smiles working its way onto her face.

"I'm here to help," he said kissing her hand.

Rose seemed to quiver a bit under his gaze and looked alarmingly close to pouncing Brad right there- until they all heard a faint buzzing noise emanate from Brad's pocket. He quickly reached in and pulled out a pocket watch. In bold red letters the top of his watch read 'Allenworth- Floo 34.'

"Drat! I really need to take this. Al, may I use your fire place?" asked Brad, already hunkering down and grabbing a handful of floo powder.

"Help yourself," called Al from the kitchen with all the fondness of a half-starved Acromantula.

"And this needs to be private," said Brad.

"Of course it does," said Al in a mocking tone.

Brad waved his wand, encasing the fireplace in what looked like a large, transparent, blue bubble.

"Wanker!" Al added with relish, knowing full well Brad couldn't hear a syllable.

Ever since the invention of 'the buzzer' professional witches and wizards were prone to darting in and out of other's Floos for business calls. Being a Wizarding sports agent, Brad had been one of the first to own one, and had gotten into the annoying habit of using others' Floos in a near constant state.

Scorpius found buzzers to be annoying gadgets that made him far too accessible to people. Always a private person by nature, Scorpius didn't like the idea of people constantly demanding his attention, nor did he relish the idea of being indebted to others for Floo time.

He had a studied look of indifference on his face as Rose watched Brad spiritedly speaking with some old warlock, and taking out a Quick Quotes Quill to magically take notes. Rose crossed her arms and gave Brad a glare, but a look of hurt started to make its way into her eyes. Scorpius vaguely wondered what the penalty for cursing Brad enough that his ears permanently fell off would be.

"So, how long have you been playing 'dress up' with Lily and Mags?"

"This is the first time Magnolia has ever been to my house," Scorpius smiled.

"But not the first time Lily has?" she asked in a surly tone.

"Well, no—" Scorpius answered, thinking back to the few times that Lily had visited his house along with Al and Rose.

"I see." Rose looked to her fingertips that were steepled in an uncomfortable looking position that made them resemble a clutch of particularly tangled reeds. She was biting her lower lip.

"Rose, is something the matter?" he asked, gently untangling her hands.

"No… Why would anything be wrong?" she said with small shrug of her shoulders.

Perhaps this was the moment that Scorpius was looking for; a moment when he could steer her affections towards himself in some subtle way. Perhaps if he were to hold her again something would come of it?

Scorpius gave a quick look to see if Brad would interrupt. If he just eased his hand into hers, perhaps she would lean back into his arms and—

"I'm going to curse his bollocks off if he flakes out on us," Rose muttered. Scorpius felt his breath leave him in disappointment.

"Well then I suppose you aren't going to be having any children in the future," Scorpius replied carefully, giving a nod to Brad.

Rose's wand started to intermittently give off sparks as Brad finished his call and excitedly undid the privacy spell.

"We did it!" exclaimed Brad, scribbling down a few more notes by hand. Rose only glared.

"You might have to adopt at this point," Scorpius muttered under his breath.

"Er, did what?" asked Scorpius when Rose continued to give a cold gaze and say nothing.

"I just got Melrose Finwick to be a starting Keeper for the Harpies! I thought she'd have to be a second, or stay with the Kestrils, which would have done nothing for her career. I thought it wouldn't come through, but here it is! Coming through! I need to go over and finish the paperwork with them, of course, and I'll need to renegotiate her contract again as well, but it's all but done! This is amazing!" finished Brad in one long breath.

"That really is amazing," said Rose. "Didn't you say you would hand over all your clients to another agent during our honeymoon?"

"I told them to call me if there were any big breakthroughs. At the time the deal had dead ended, so it didn't matter who was on it," Brad said with an innocent shrug.

"So if this breakthrough had happened, say, on our honeymoon, you would have left me on the beach in the Caribbean by myself while you renegotiate a Quidditch contract for Melrose Finwick?" said Rose dangerously.

"What?" he asked, looking bewildered.

"Would you?"

Brad gave himself a moment to ponder this question, and then said, "If it meant getting the deal done right, yes."

Rose had turned an alarming shade of red.

"Look, this is a big deal," Brad supplied.

"And no one else could handle this?"

"Well, yes they could, but—"

"Our honeymoon was not as important to you as some Quidditch player's contract?"

"Now you know that's not true," Brad said in a placating tone. "Love, we both know you're making a mountain out of—"

"Don't you talk down to me, Brandon Bradley!"

"Well if you weren't being so impractical, perhaps I wouldn't," he said with a smile.

If this was meant to charm Rose, Scorpius thought Brad was gravely mistaken in his choice of tone and manner.

It was difficult to tell exactly what happened next, but within moments there was a flash of yellow light and Brad had been hurled into the opposite wall, his robes smoking.

Al rushed into the room, an expectant grin splitting his thin face. It fell upon seeing the action was all over.

"Damn, I missed it," Al said, seeing a coughing Brad pickling himself up from the ground.

"You are all impossible!" she screamed.

"All? What did I do?" Scorpius asked, completely bewildered.

Rose ignored him, slammed the door open and Disapparated with a giant bang that resembled a potion explosion he had witnessed in Fifth Year.

"What in the world?" Brad let out.

For once, Scorpius found himself on the same page as Brandon Bradley.

"I have no idea," he answered, watching the door as if it might supply an answer.

"Brad," said Al.

Both Scorpius and Brad were startled to hear the name come from Al.

"I might remind you that there are Quidditch deals aplenty, but only one Rose Weasley. Perhaps you need to get out of here and apologize to Rose," said Al in the gentlest of ways.

Both Scorpius and Brad stared agog.

"I think flowers would be a good gift for her," Al said with a convivial smile, patting Brad on the back.

"Uh… yeah… Thanks, Al," Brad said with a worried look on his face.

Both Scorpius and Brad didn't know what to make of this, but Brad seemed too shell-shocked to respond in any other way than giving his thanks and Apparating away.

Al's serene smile didn't leave his face even after Brad left. Normally he would have taken this opportunity to call Brad 'wanker' or something the like. Instead he just grinned and headed for the fireplace.

"Why were you helping Brad?" asked Scorpius, put out.

"She was jealous!"

"Al what—?"

"Jealous! Jealous!" Al repeated impatiently, as if this explained something. He quickly Flooed someone and stated to the grate, "Emergency! Arrive stat!"

In a flash of green flames Lily swirled out of the green flamed fireplace.

"What happened? Where's Rose?" Lily asked.

"Brad showed up—" began Scorpius.

"Brad?" Mags asked, stepping out of the fireplace and dusting off her robes.

"Yeah. Git. Anyways, Rose is jealous of you," Al said to Mags.

"What?" asked Lily.

"And you too Lily! She thought you two, like, had an orgy or something with Scorpius today, and is completely green-eyed."

"Oh!" Mags said, before laughing and joining Al's eager look.

"What in the world are you grinning about?" Scorpius peevishly asked.

"I don't know how you managed to get such high O.W.L.s when you are so bloody thick!" said Al with impatience. "Rose was angry as a Doxy-bit kneazle when you started talking about girls in your bedroom."

"She was?"

"Yes, prat, she was."

Scorpius felt a smile beginning to form on his face.

"She was jealous of Lily and Mags," he said in a dazed fashion.

"Yes! So we're going to have to exploit that. Which girl are you going to pretend to be involved with?"

"What?" cried Mags lurching away from Al. Lily's eyebrows creased and she stared at the floor.

"We need to get Rose jealous enough to realize she loves Scorpius, not Barton."

"Brad," supplied Mags.

Al ignored her.

"One of you needs to pretend you're in love with Scorpius and in some sort of relationship with him. And it needs to be convincing."

Both Mags and Lily stared at him and Scorpius with wide eyes.

"Look, neither of you needs to enter into this madcap scheme of his," Scorpius said looking at the two girls.

"I'm certainly not going to," said Mags giving Al a glare. Seeing Scorpius' affronted look she added, "I'm just… Well, I'm sort of already involved with someone else. And I'm a terrible liar. No offense Scorpius. I just don't think I could manage it."

"It's ok. Lily can do it. She's a great little liar," said Al, smirking until Lily kicked him in the shin.

"What makes you think that I'm not already in a relationship, Al?" she said, looking between him and Scorpius with a tight smile. Al gave her a pointed look. She started to flush and look flustered. "Ok, fine, I'm too busy to have a relationship right now."

"Uh huh," Al teased.

"I'm busy being a Healer! And there aren't any good men around. And-and I'm not wanting one anyways. Who says that you need a man in your life to be happy? I certainly don't! Who cares about what they think? Never noticing anything you do for them, and never calling— Who cares! I certainly don't mind being alone all the time! I certainly don't need a man's approval in order to feel good about myself and there is certainly nothing wrong with being single!"

Her sudden outburst left the others in stunned silence.

"Shit, Lils, calm down. There's nothing wrong with being single, ok?" Al said, holding his hands up in a defensive motion.

"Nothing at all," added Scorpius.

"So, Lily," Al started gently. "Will you do it then?"

She looked at Scorpius for a moment, her eyes traveling over his face in a searching way Scorpius found highly uncomfortable.

"Fine," she said suddenly, another tight smile making its way onto her face. "I'll pretend to be in love with Scorpius."

"Good!" exclaimed Al, patting her on the back. "Then it's settled!"

Al and Mags quickly laid out the plan of action, both very enthusiastic and passionate about its veracity as the 'best plan ever.' The two were so wrapped up in their planning, that Scorpius found it the perfect opportunity to address Lily.

"You don't have to do this," Scorpius whispered under his breath. "It's just a ridiculous juvenile plan."

"Perhaps it's just insensate enough to function," Lily echoing his words from the hospital, making Scorpius laugh.

"You don't mind 'pretending we're in love,' then?" he asked sardonically.

"I don't mind at all," said Lily, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm.


	6. Trick Stairs and Rivalries

"Rose?"

What in the world was that sound?

Rose rolled herself even tighter in her cocoon of bed sheets.

"Rose?"

"Go 'way, Hugo," she muttered.

"Hugo?" she heard another voice giggle. There was a chorus of laughs.

Rose opened up one sleep-encrusted eye to see a group of eleven-year-old girls, all dressed pristinely in their school uniforms and headed for the door.

"We have class in about forty-five minutes," said the stylish brunette girl at the foot of the bed. She had enviable waves of chestnut brown hair, and looked like one of those girls Rose had seen on the covers of Witch Teen Weekly magazines. "It might take a while to sort out your hair, so I suggest you start now."

Rose sat up and blearily peered at her well-groomed dorm-mates, who giggled amongst themselves again as they stared at her. Rose was fairly certain it looked like a small explosive device had been detonated in her hair, and a look in the bathroom mirror later confirmed it.

"Oh," Rose croaked. "Are you all headed for breakfast, then?"

"Yes," said one of them. Rose was not sure which girl it was who answered her, but within moments the giggling gaggle had left.

In an awkward tumble she landed next to her trunk to get out her clothes for the day. Her trunk was in disarray from the night before, as she had annoyingly placed her pajamas at the bottom of her trunk. It made it difficult to dress, with clothing unconscionably spread around her bed, but after a few moments of swearing and pillaging, she found her robes. Dressed, she headed to the Great Hall by herself, she was determined not to let anything dampen her first day of classes.

She took her time as she walked down the stone steps, staring at the many moving paintings. There was something about them she found intriguing. She hadn't really had a chance to see many Wizarding painters' works outside of the stuffy portraits she'd seen at Grimmauld Place. They were nothing compared to these menageries and elegantly dressed wizards and witches. Seeing them moving about and following her, their brushstrokes so smooth and—

"Bollocks!" she cried as her foot fell into what had appeared to be a solid stair.

She tried to step out of the invisible hole, but couldn't: the step obstinately refused to let go of her foot. She tried from an assortment of angles to remove her foot, but nothing seemed to work. She looked about to see if there were any helpful portraits nearby, buy the frames were empty of any speaking inhabitants. A fat rabbit sat staring at her, nibbling on a rather large carrot.

"Hulloooo? Anybody there?"

The only sounds she could hear were her own grunts of exertion as she pulled again at her foot, and the gnawing of the carrot. It was just her, the rabbit, and the cavernous limestone.

She attempted to hopelessly sit, but her leg was at such an angle the task proved impossible. Minutes passed. Not a soul. Perhaps the stone was charmed to attach itself permanently. They would have to cut out the stair itself in order for her to leave that spot, but her foot would remain forever attached to that block of stone. She would have to take a broom to class in order to get there on time, as walking with a one-hundred pound block of stone attached to your ankle would not be a speedy event. Years would pass, and forever shunned, she would have to live in a cave, where only wild birds would tolerate her company, and would bring her books and food until the day she died, withered, outcast and quite dirty. This was her fate. She was almost comfortable with it, when she heard the footsteps of someone a few flights down.

"Salvation!" Rose exclaimed. Perhaps there was hope yet. The footsteps made no change in pace, which meant they didn't hear her.

"Excuse me!" she called to the feet. "Could you please help me? My foot is stuck!"

The footsteps sped up, and a blond head came into view.

"Up here!" she called down.

The student looked up, and there was the countenance of Scorpius Malfoy.

"Bollocks," Rose let out. She then cursed under her breath some more. Oh well. At least she was being begrudgingly helped by him. Maybe they could even become friends for the second time in twenty four hours.

He gave her an annoyingly superior smirk, before continuing his way to the Great Hall.

"BOLLOCKS!" Rose cleverly shouted back down the stairs. Her chest constricted, her cheeks began to flush, and she had the sensation a bull must feel when a red cape is teasingly flourished in its direction. She let out a frustrated scream, and did what she could to kick the air. All she succeeded in was sinking her foot deeper and dropping her book sack down the stairs with a vociferous crash. "Could today be any worse?"

"I imagine it could," she heard a deep voice chuckle.

There was Uncle Neville— Professor Longbottom!— standing a flight down.

"I've gotten stuck in this stair a fair few times," he said, extracting her foot with a swift flick of his wand and handing over her book bag.

"They should have warning signs."

Longbottom ruefully laughed.

"Agreed. Unfortunately, the stairs have plenty of spells that keep them from getting worn down: this includes spells that make writing a warning sign on the steps near impossible. That, and Peeves enjoys setting any non permanent signs on fire and hurling them at students."

"Thanks for helping me," Rose said as they reached the Great Hall.

Neville her a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Now I need to go and tend to the plants, but enjoy your breakfast, Rose. I believe Al is still at the Gryffindor table."

It took no more than a glance to find the always-disheveled hair of Al amongst the first years. He seemed to already have a host of little friends around him. They all laughed as one of the boys did an impression of a unicorn by holding a piece of toast to his forehead. Rose made her way towards the group rather slowly until she spotted Scorpius' pale hair. He was reading the same book she'd seen him reading on the Hogwarts Express, and sitting by himself. Instead of feeling pity for him, Rose felt a wrathful surge of anger.

In a haze she forcefully hit Scorpius with her book bag as she sped by.

"Ouch!" he let out, rubbing his back as best he could.

"Oh! So very sorry," she snarled over her shoulder.

"I see you're out of the step, now," she heard from behind her.

"Yeah, well, it's a good thing Professor Longbottom came along when he did," she replied with restraint, turning around to face the horrid boy who had the audacity to smirk at her. "I thought maybe you would help, but I guess it's true that the only people Malfoys ever help are themselves."

Scorpius's smirk fled the scene to be replaced by a potent glare.

"And judging by you it's true that Weasleys are a brood of ugly, foul-tempered, judgmental idiots."

"U-ugly?" Rose gasped, a hand going to her frazzled hair.

"Just go sit at your table already, Weasley. People are trying to eat, and your face is causing indigestion," he added with merciless precision.

There was a moment, not more than maybe a tenth of a second, where Rose thought she might cry. The fleeting moment of weakness was replaced with a burning fury. Unfortunately she was now unable to form any words and her mouth opened and closed like a grouper fish.

"Dyspepsia," Scorpius responded, giving her a look of revulsion.

Rose let out a guttural cry before stamping her foot, turning around and marching towards the Gryffindor table. She flung herself next to Albus without preamble and the three boys around him stopped talking.

"Here's our schedule. Everything ok?" Al looked at her a bit warily.

Rose shook her head, ignoring the stares as she filled her plate to the brim and started shoveling food into her trap with a vengeance.

Al turned around in his seat, and leaned his back against the table, curiously looking at the Slytherin table. "Why is Scorpius glaring at you?"

Rose gave a flippant shrug. "Becaush he'sh a Malfoy. Dey're shupposhed to grare at Weashreesh, right?"

The other three boys looked on with avid interest. Al looked like he was thinking hard about something, and didn't bother to make eye contact with her.

"Itch no bug deal," Rose managed to say around her food.

"Is that why you were late for breakfast? Did you two duel or something?" asked the chubby boy across from her.

"No." Rose swallowed her bite with a grimace. "I got caught in a stair on the way."

"How'd you manage to forget about the stair? That prefect talked about it for like five minutes on the way to the common room," the light brown-haired boy said with a derisive snort.

"Nice," muttered Rose.

"She wasn't with our group," said Al, suddenly looking her in the eye. His stare promised they would be talking about it later.

"Why weren't you with us?" the chubby boy asked. "Is that when you dueled with Malfoy?"

"There was  _no duel_." She wrathfully stabbed her French toast.

"Well then why weren't you with our group?" asked the Scottish black boy. He had two triangles of toast tucked in his upper lip dangling like walrus tusks. "Vampire try to suck your blood?"

The boys all laughed.

"I got distracted by the paintings. No big deal."

She gave a pleading look to Al. He nodded in understanding and got up from the table.

"Yeah, some of those paintings are weird. Ready for class?"

"Yeah," said Rose, grabbing a few sausage patties in a napkin and following him from the table.

Al gave a wave to the still curious boys. "See you at Potions."

Rose scuttled past Scorpius's table as quickly as she could. Perhaps if she just ran by him every time he was near she would forget he existed. Yes, that was most definitely her plan: ignore him and never talk to, or about him, again!

"So what really happened between you and Scorpius?"

_Thanks, Al._

Rose gave a great sigh and nibbled on a sausage patty.

"We had a fight. I told him I didn't care if he was Slytherin, we'd still be friends. Then he got really mad, saying I care about it, and that he didn't want to be friends with a Gryffindor anyways. This morning he said my face causes him dyspepsia."

Al let out a laugh.

"It's not funny, Al! You can't be laughing at what he said!"

He gave a shrug of nonchalance. "It was funny."

Rose was not sure that she had adequately described the events. How could he be defending the little monster? Rose savagely tore the end off of her patty.

"He inshulted me. Humiriated me!"

She swallowed.

"He insulted me, our house, and the whole Weasley family," she added, accidentally flinging the last of her breakfast across the hall. She hurriedly started picking them up. Al didn't move to help her. "You're my cousin and a Gryffindor; how could you not be on my side with this? He said I was stupid, ugly and-"

"Why would he do that?" Al said in annoyingly calm voice.

Rose gave a derisive snort. "Because he's a Malfoy and a Slytherin."

"He seemed alright on the train, yeah? You were the one who wanted to be friends with him in the—"

"Past tense!"

"Why don't you stop acting like a dragon, and just be friends?"

"You just don't get it," said Rose with a shake of her head.

"Huh."

"'Huh?!' Use some words! 'Huh' is not a word!" Rose grouched as one of the sausage patties rolled out of her hand further down the hallway.

"I just really don't want to get in the middle of this."

Al quietly crossed his arms and gave her one of his stares. He had an annoying ability to almost always get his way. He had an assembly of weapons, and today he was using the 'stare oppressively, deliberately and unfazedly' method.

"I am never going to be friends with him," she replied in a harsh whisper.

The S.O.D. U. struck with precision.

"But I will stop 'acting like a dragon.'"

Al nodded in approval.

"This is only for now, though! If he's mean to me again, there are no guarantees. If he talks to me, I'll probably go into dragon-mode."

"Just don't do it in front of people," Al said, giving the password to the Fat Lady. "It's embarrassing."

They stopped by their dorms to get their incredibly awkward and heavy potions kits, along with the rest of their school books for the day.

She rushed up the stairs, grabbed the kit, and was about to leave when she discovered a piece of parchment stuck to her shoe. It was haphazardly folded and on it Dad's large scrawl read 'To My Wild Girl.' She picked up the letter and gently unfolded it.

There were three letters in a row, each in different handwriting.

In large, almost illegible, handwriting was the letter from Hugo.

_DEAR ROSIE_

_what huose are you in? It shuold be Gryffindor becuas its the best. I want to be ther to but mum says no becuas I am not old enuogh. I wnat to see yuo soon but not til Chrismas becuaes mum says yup want to be at skool til Chrismas. Pleaze bring me a ghost!_

_HUGO_

Rose dearly loved her little brother, but she had to wonder about his writing skills at times. He was nine and couldn't spell or write worth a lick. Next was Mum's tight neat script. Rose wasn't all that surprised at how long it was. Scanning it, she spotted a paragraph or two about elf rights. Rose decided to save that for later. Next was Dad's. She most looked forward to his. He was never prone to monologuing like Mum.

"Rose? Hurry up, already!" she heard the muffled yell of Al.

"I'M COMING!" Rose shouted back. Looking at the letter she felt a pang for home. She stuffed the letter in her rucksack and awkwardly waddled down the stairs with her kit.

Al carried his the rest of the way, while Rose used a pair of attachable wheels Mum had bought her. At first she thought them to be a wonderful invention, as it would save her from years of a severely curved spine, but upon arriving at the classroom door, she realized she was the only one using them.

The group of girls from her dorm were standing about giggling. When Rose looked to join them, they subtly turned away and giggled some more. Not one to be fazed, Rose decided to stick by her cousin.

The Gryffindor boys quickly sought out Al. Unlike at breakfast, he made sure to introduce them to Rose rather than have them interrogate her again. The chubby boy was Ward Watkins. He had dark hair and seemed better suited for Hufflepuff than Gryffindor to her. The somewhat condescending boy with light brown hair was Alex Hooper. He had hooded light blue eyes and a snobby attitude. The Scottish black boy was Porter McKirnan. He had a wide, inviting smile, and seemed friendly enough, though a bit of a goofball. He had been the one using toast to do impressions of creatures. None of them particularly wanted to talk to her, besides Ward, who excitedly prattled on about a pet gerbil he brought with him.

"It said 'rat' on the list, but I figure a rodent is a rodent, and Gus is much better than any old rat."

"Hmm," Rose responded, bored.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rose spotted Malfoy, quite alone, which brought her a nasty sort of satisfaction. He was surreptitiously eyeing them.

"It's nice that you have such a great pet, Ward. Pets and friends are very important. You're quite lucky to have both. You have to feel sorry for the students that never manage to make friends because they are prats," Rose said rather loudly. Malfoy's eyebrows creased and he pointedly stared at the wall. Ward just nodded in agreement. He was boring, but at least he was amiable.

Suddenly the classroom door opened to reveal their Proffessor of Potions.

"In we go," he said, adjusting his square spectacles. The students quickly obliged. The room seemed to be impossibly bright and clean, to Rose. She always pictured the dungeons to be dank, dirty and ill lit: this was mostly because anything requiring things like newt eyes and knives couldn't take place in a bright cheery sort of place in her mind. Rose sat with Albus, and she surreptitiously watched Malfoy sit at the last remaining desk by himself.

The Professor wore robes that were impeccably pressed, and had a very short, meticulously parted haircut. The man could easily pass as one of Grandpa Granger's dental assistants. In a very precise hand 'Professor Cauldwell' was written upon the chalk board.

"As the board reads, I'm Professor Cauldwell." His voice was erudite and precise. "In order to succeed in Potions you must follow the Four P's."

Rose had to stop herself from snorting. Porter McKirnan didn't bother to stagger his laughter.

With a sudden wave of his wand a scroll hanging from wall unfurled to reveal the Four P's: Prepared, Punctual, Precise and Pristine.

"Prepared. I expect you to come to class with all your supplies, a ready mind, and your homework. If I find you lacking in any of those you will lose points and spend the rest of the class sitting outside the door with no wand.

"Punctual. If you come to class late you will be punished. You also need to closely watch the time with your potions. A few seconds boiling too long or not long enough can make the difference between creating a cure or creating a poison.

"Precise. Not paying attention to little details in a Potion's Recipe can make a potion anything from just useless, to something explosive, to something deadly. I expect you all to show a proper amount of respect for you ingredients, and be constantly aware of the volatile ingredients you are working with.

"And Pristine. This classroom, your desks, your potions kits and the cubbyholes where you keep them will remain in the spotless condition you find them in today. I don't want any grime-filled cauldrons, leaking ingredients or sticky vials in here. Keep things clean, or lose points.

"Stick to the Four P's, and you will find this a pleasant atmosphere. Don't, and I guarantee you will not pass, and you will find this course to be most displeasing."

Most of the class had sunk low in their seats looking sullen. Potions didn't sound like it would be much fun. The fact that he mentioned poison and death a few times made Rose wonder why they ever let students practice Potions in the first place.

"Now that we have that out of the way— I always like to start the year by seeing who managed to read about potions before school started, " the Professor said with a dry grin. Al and a few others let out a chorus of low groans. "Let's see who can get the most points."

Rose felt a sudden jolt of alertness as her competitive streak started to flare.

"Who can name one of the ingredients in a boil cure potion?"

Rose remembered this! Porcupine quills! She started to raise her hand when she heard Professor Cauldwell say:

"Gentleman at the back."

"Porcupine quills."

"Well done. Two points to Slytherin, Mr..."

"Scorpius Malfoy."

Rose turned about in her seat and glared. She had known the answer. She knew it! And that little toad had beaten her to it. First he had bested her at chess on the train, then he had left her in a bewildered crying mess and unable to find her common room. He then abandoned her when her foot was stuck. Add in his acerbic tongue giving her a lashing at breakfast, and every fiber of her demanded she beat and humiliate him.

Her hand was quivering in anticipation for the next question.

"All right then. Who can name a use for asphodel?"

Before Cauldwell had finished the question, Rose had thrust her hand into the air.

"Miss Weasley."

Rose felt a flash of irritation that he knew her name just by glancing at her hair.

"Draught of the Living Dead."

"Quite right. Two points to Gryffindor."

"Nice one," whispered Al, giving her a thumbs up, but she had no time for dallying in petty congratulations. Rose turned around in her seat and gave Malfoy a challenging look. He returned it full force.

"Who can tell me how an Ashwinder's eggs should be kept?"

Malfoy's hand was in the air quick as a Snitch.

"Mr Malfoy."

"Frozen."

"Two points to Slytherin. Next question: What potion can fluxweed- Miss Weasley."

"Polyjuice Potion, sir."

"Yes. Two points," said Cauldwell, looking between Rose and Malfoy over his glasses. Most of the students were giving similar wary glances. Al looked around embarrassed.

"The potion that persuades the drinker that the giver is his or her best friend-"

"Gregory's Unctuous Unction!" called out Malfoy, fixing a determined stare at Rose.

"Two points. The most powerful truth-serum-"

"Veritaserum!" Rose practically shouted, not looking at Cauldwell, but turned about so she could properly glower at Malfoy.

"Two points. Another name for aconite-"

"WOLFSBANE!" The two cried in unison. Rose was breathing hard, and Malfoy's blonde hair looked a bit unkempt.

"Two points each. That was a very impressive demonstration," said Professor Cauldwell, giving a shake of his head. "I guess we can tell who did their reading this summer. Perhaps you lot should adopt Weasley and Malfoy's study habits?"

The same brunette girl from her dormitory laughed and whispered so the whole class could hear, "definitely don't want to adopt her  _grooming_  habits."

A few of them laughed. Al sat up and grabbed his wand tightly, but Rose sank a bit in her seat and gently nudged him with her elbow.

"Let's get started then," Cauldwell said rather loudly, pointedly ignoring the girl's comment. "Everyone please turn to the first page of their text books."

Rose had already read the first chapter and it was all theory. As much as she wanted to pay attention, she decided to read the letter from her parents instead. She skipped Mum's again and read Dad's.

_Dear Rosie,_

_Here's a new WWW product I've been working on with George for a while. I figured I'd save Albus' owl the trouble of flying back and forth with your mail, and save you the trouble of finding a willing owl._

_You can write your reply on the paper, and I'll receive it on another parchment. You can even make it private so your Mum won't know what trouble you get up to. We got the idea when we saw Grandpa Granger's compewtor. Instructions are on the back!_

_Write and tell us what house you're in! Not that I care which one it is._

_Love,_

_Dad_

_PS. Don't tell Hugo you can't wrestle a ghost into coming home with you. Watching your Mum's head spin as she explains the concept of ghosts to him is much too fun._

"So, given what we just learned, the ingredient most likely to be used in a Babbling Beverage would be-?"

"Celandine," Rose offered half-heartedly, not looking up from her parchment.

Rose flipped the letter over.

**_Weasley Wizard Wheezes Wordsmith_ **

**_Instructions:_ **

**_When ready to write a reply write 'new letter.'_ **

**_To send a letter just tap the paper with your wand once and say 'send.'_ **

**_To make the letter viewable to only certain people, just write 'private letter to:' then list the names._ **

**_All the letters will be saved within the parchment. To find a letter just hold your wand to the parchment and clearly picture the letters you want to read and they will appear._ **

She was relieved when she heard the bell. Looking around she saw everyone putting their kits in cubby holes, many of them vying to house their kits next to each other: Rose thought it bit stupid, as they would barely be using the things. Head held high, she went to the end where the least amount of people were and placed hers at the second to last, not bothering to see who she was next to.

Charms was next on their schedule. On the other side of the cubbies Al was contently chatting with the other Gryffindor boys. She knew the other boys didn't really want her to hang around, so she went on without them. Students were still filing out of Flitwick's room when she arrived.

"Come in, Miss Weasley, come in," the Professor merrily piped. "You're not the first to briskly arrive."

Malfoy was already sitting in a chair towards the front. Rose sat on the opposite end of the row.

"Professor? Do you know any charms for heartburn?" Malfoy asked.

"Well yes. There are a few good ones, though I think they might be a bit advanced for a first year."

"What about charms for headaches?" Rose asked.

"Yes, there are. Do you two need to go to the infirmary?"

"No," they answered in unison. Malfoy glared at her as if she were impertinent for speaking at the same time as him.

Rose got out her Weasley Wizard Wordsmith, along with a quill.

_Dear everyone,_

_I'm a Gryffindor! Everything is great._

_Will properly write soon!_

_With Love,_

_Rose_

_PS. Know any good spells for a pain in the arse?_

"Send!" Rose said a bit louder than necessary.


	7. Front Doors

A person's front door can say a great deal about them.

Some people enjoy choosing grande hand-carved doors that have history, and speak of times of old. Scorpius tended to like people who chose such doors. It meant they appreciated artistry, quality, and could embrace the unique. They also had a flair for drama. Rose loved those kinds of doors.

Some people prefer the clean lines of an Edwardian door. These usually put more effort into the knobs, hinges, and door-knockers than the wood itself. They speak of someone who enjoys details, while being beyond the fuss of the overly grande, and relatively down to earth. Scorpius had such a door.

There were also doors filled with character but no artistry. Albus had such a door. It was beaten up from years of use, a faded orange color, and the number six hung down so that it looked like a nine. He had a shoddy matt out front with stripes, and though it was anything but put together, it had a certain charm about it.

And finally there was the red hunk of metal Brad had the audacity to call a door.

It bore no decoration- there wasn't even a welcome matt: just a cold steel handle, highly glossy red metal and a black peep hole. It spoke of someone slick like the varnish, cool like the metal, and flashy like that atrocious tomato red.

Scorpius hated that door.

What he hated even more was that he had been staring at it for one hour, nineteen minutes, and ten seconds.

"Rose! Open this door! This is getting ridiculous!" yelled Brad.

One hour, nineteen minutes, and fifteen seconds with the poncy owner himself.

"Calling her actions ridiculous will hardly entice her to leave," Scorpius drawled from the floor.

Brad tried another spell. The door glowed blue then turned garish red again.

"You've also tried that spell already," said Scorpius, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Rose's Charms are the best. Get a magical locksmith: I doubt drawing up contracts for overpaid Quidditch stars has improved your charms enough to worm your way in."

Scorpius was satisfied to see Brad's shoulders tense. Until Brad, Scorpius had never met someone he could not get a rise out of when he wanted to. He had never seen the man lose his cool, which made Al's theory that 'Bert' was not human slightly more plausible.

"It's a Sunday. Magical Locksmiths are like banks and private practice Healers- closing at the merest hint of a Holiday or weekend." Brad leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. "Rose's Uncle is a cursebreaker... Perhaps I could get him to open the door."

"If you want the whole Weasley family to know your personal business with Rose, by all means do," said Scorpius. "I'm sure her father would be keen to know why his only daughter has barricaded herself."

Brad blanched.

"You know, this is probably the most I've ever heard you talk, Scorpius."

Scorpius stoically did not mention he despised Brad and generally made excuses to escape his company.

"I suppose I just don't see enough of you and Al, though I think Al orchestrates that. He seems to rather despise me. If it weren't for the fact that he and Rose were cousins ,I'd think he were jealous."

"He is very protective of Rose," Scorpius said with a schooled shrug.

"As are you."

Scorpius remained silent. He didn't like where Brad was probing with this conversation.

"You know, there is a closeness between you and Rose I quite envy at times..."

"Perhaps, if you weren't so busy negotiating with Melrose Fenwick, you could spend time with Rose," said Scorpius.

"We spend plenty of time together," Brad said with a raunchy smile that made Scorpius roll his eyes. "But I still envy your friendship. Sometimes I even worry she tells you things she would never tell me."

"I wouldn't know. I'm not privy to your private conversations, after all." Scorpius could not recall being more uncomfortable. He hoped this would bring an end to this intimate look into Brandon Bradley's perspective. He came from a family where you were taught to never reveal your weaknesses, or worries, for fear they would be exploited later. Being a Slytherin only further enforced this. Scorpius had very few people he trusted with his insecurities, secrets and dreams. Brad would never be one of them, and he had no idea why Brad felt the need to share such details with him.

"She's incredibly special, you know? I even wonder how I was lucky enough to catch her."

Scorpius had pondered that subject many a time.

"I don't pretend to understand your relationship, but your friendship means a great deal to her, so whatever it is you're holding against me, I hope we can move past it. I know she'd appreciate it if we got along," said Brad.

Scorpius resisted a gaffaw.

Either Brad was very shrewd, or he was a much more gracious person than Scorpius had thought him. He hoped it was the former, that way his continued hatred would feel even more just. Was he trying to weasel something of a confession out of Scorpius?

Or maybe he was hoping to use Scorpius as a way to quickly earn Rose's forgiveness.

Scorpius had never cared much for Brad. The man was much too keen to have everyone's approval, an attribute Scorpius disdained. What tolerance he had for Brad dipped when he took up with Rose three years prior- but following the proposal, Scorpius found it hard to recall one pleasant thing about him. If someone like Rose could manage to stand the bastard, he had to have at least one redeeming feature, and after thinking, Scorpius discovered it. He had clean fingernails. There! That was surely enough for karma's sake.

Looking at the shiny door, Scorpius could make out their reflections as they sat together. At first glance one might think the rivals friends.

What if they were friends? Wouldn't Rose appreciate it? Wouldn't Scorpius have more opportunities to sabotage Brad and leave him in a crying mess on the floor for others to mock?

Scorpius felt a bit ill. It was uncomfortable to come to terms with how deeply rooted and savage his feelings towards Brad had become.

The most ruthless part of him wanted to sabotage Brad in every way. He did not want to stop at just stealing Rose, but hurt Brad's reputation, and leave him gutted. He wanted revenge against the ponce for ever having taken Rose's time and attention.

He shook his head to rid himself of this dangerous territory of thought. He never considered himself spiteful- though he had been known as a bit harsh at times, he was nothing if not fair. He was not terribly fluent in underhanded dealings, only ever dabbling in them when necessary, for he had always regarded himself as above that. He was a pillar of virtue, compared to many of the Slytherins he knew.

Of course, being friendly with Brad could have other benefits, like research on how to get Rose to see all the faults in him Scorpius and Al did. He would finally end the hold Brad had on Rose's affections, and if Brad would suffer, so be it.

"Yes, she would appreciate us getting along," Scorpius finally conceded.

"I'm willing to try."

"And I'm willing... to look past your atrocious taste in architectural features."

Brad laughed.

"Yeah, it's not quite as classic as your tastes-"

"That's one way to put it," said Scorpius with a raised brow at the door.

"I suppose that's why you're the architect."

"I don't have any business cards with me, but feel free to floo my secretary. It needs an overhaul, if not for taste's sake, then for your neighbors'. I would have lodged a complaint years ago."

"You know, it's been over an hour," Brad said, deftly changing the subject. "Part of me is wondering if she's in there or not."

Scorpius turned his head to the side. A spark of thought burgeoned within him. Rose was not there at all... and he had a reasonably good idea of where to find her. The more he thought on it, the more he felt the need to leave immediately.

"Well, it seems there is nothing I can do to rectify this situation. I suppose I'm going to go home," he said, hoping Brad took no notice of his sudden inspiration. Brad didn't seem concerned, so Scorpius took his leave, doing his best to look unhurried. The moment the doors closed on the the elevator he apparated.

He was immediately in the familiar alleyway near Marylebone High Street. Of all the wizard inventions, how they had not managed to get better apparating points, he was unsure. The alley had the same long abandoned posters featuring bands he had never heard of, and long-forgotten flyers of past classes liberally lining its its brick walls. At one point people must have passed by this area quite often, but the foreclosed building at the end of the alley looked like it hadn't seen people in a decade. It was a shame, really, as it was built rather handsomely, and with a few spells and layers of paint, it would be a grande place for a business of some sort.

He walked fast as he could without gaining unwarranted attention, until coming to the dark blue doors of the museum.

"Malfoooy!" he heard a voice trill from inside. Vanessa, a plump genial woman called him from the desk. The bubbly woman had worked there ever since its opening, she told him some years ago. She seemed an odd fit for the quiet rooms of the small museum, especially as her trilling laugh would echo off the walls disturbing the guests. He fished in his pockets to pay her for admission. "Don't you try to pay us. You and Rose are in here often enough, it wouldn't be right to ask you to pay each time."

"Fine, but I swear I'll manage to pay you eventually," Scorpius said, re-pocketing a muggle bill. "Is Rose in her usual spot?"

"Oh yes! Same as usual," Vanessa said with a laugh. Scorpius gave her a nod of thanks, before making his way into the gallery. A few turns and flights of stairs, and he was able to see Rose's bright hair. She sat alone on her bench, firmly staring at the painting front of her. Her hand tried to sneakily remove a piece of chocolate from her purse. The purse crinkled in a way that made him suspect this was not her first piece of the day.

"I believe it's against the rules to bring in outside food or drink," said Scorpius, pointing to the sign above her head that said 'no outside food or drink.'

"It doesn't say anything about chocolate," she said pushing another chocolate into her mouth, and licking her fingers. She moved the purse, almost overflowing with wrappers, to the side. Whether she moved it to make room for him to sit, or to conceal how many chocolates she had eaten, he was not sure.

He silently sat on the proffered spot, though not without spelling away a pair of chocolate finger prints from the seat.

Rose continued to chew, a look of consternation wrinkling her brow. She had a bit of chocolate in the corner of her mouth.

"Here." He handed her a handkerchief. She wretched it from his hand and wrathfully swiped at her face.

"Are you all done depriving the greater Western Hemisphere of cocoa, or should I wait until we can roll you out the door?"

Rose scowled at him.

"You're not going to hex me into the wall like your fiance, are you?" he asked.

"I would never do that in a museum!" Rose replied, scandalized. "But once we're out of here, there are definitely no guarantees."

"Good to know. You should never warn your enemies, though," he replied, patting his wand.

"That's such a Slytherin thing to say!"

"And that's such a a Gryffindor response!" he mocked.

They sat in companionable silence, staring at Rose's favorite painting "La Belle Dame Sans Merci." Scorpius suspected she loved it because of the featured temptress who had hair every bit as red and wild as Rose's. Everything about it was like a person were in a mythical dream. The redheaded woman who held an otherworldly grace of temptation, the grande steed, the bright glow of the knight's armor; all of it created a picture one could get lost in. Rose attempted to get lost in it weekly, and sometimes more.

"O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, alone and palely loitering?" Rose recited.

"Besides having to put up with your wild temper, and a bad case of asthma, I'm doing fairly well," Scorpius laughed.

"It's from the poem the painting is based on, dimwit," said Rose.

"I knew that and was being ironic, swot."

"Who wrote the poem it's based on, prat?" she challenged.

"Keats, gasbag. I do occasionally listen when you go into your long speeches about paintings."

"You're on my good side again, then. Plus, I didn't feel like being a human thesaurus any longer. Want to get going?"

Scorpius acquiesced and they left the museum, Rose leading the way. With them, a good teasing argument usually settled any disagreement. The cool air gave Rose a lovely flush under her spattering of freckles. They walked in silence before Scorpius suddenly asked the question:

"Was there a particular reason you were so miffed at me, earlier? With Al and Brad it was fairly obvious, but me..."

Rose stopped at a window display and feigned interest in the vases there.

"So, was there a reason, or were you just exercising your right as a redhead to have a perilously short temper?"

"I was just a bit mad at you for escalating the argument with Brad, really," she said coolly. "All your annoying asides didn't help an already difficult situation."

"Ah, and here I thought you were jealous of my orgy with Lily and Mags," said Scorpius, demeanor calm.

Rose made a face and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"You wouldn't do that," she stated firmly. Scorpius silently watched her reflection, eyebrow arched.

"Or at least Mags and Lily wouldn't do that. I'm still... unsure about your moral ambiguity."

"Hmm," he replied, seeing her flustered expression. "I must admit I can be very morally ambiguous. I suppose I'll just have to depend on you to rehabilitate me."

Scorpius then did something reckless. He was standing intimately close to her and took a curl from her forehead and pushed it to the side, his fingers grazing her pale brow. She seemed to hold her breath, but he could still smell the chocolate in it. Her blue eyes deepened, her delicate and inviting lips opened as her eyelids started to flutter shut. But suddenly Rose backed away with a great jerk and the spell was broken.

"Very funny, you dirty minded thing," she exclaimed, with an overdone laugh. "So! What were they doing in your apartment? Besides the 'orgy'— you can leave those details for someone who cares."

"They decided my wardrobe needed an update."

"I like your old clothes better."

"Lily sort of insisted—"

"Since when do you listen to anyone's advice on anything?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. Rose always had an answer for everything, one of her traits that both annoyed and endeared her to him. In this case, though, she was chattering to keep him at bay.

"Well, perhaps this little experiment in fashion proves I am right in not listening to people's advice," he said. "But I do not want to argue about it anymore, Rose."

"Scorpius! Rose!" they heard from down the street.

They turned to see Lily bounding towards them. Scorpius supposed Al had told her about Rose's little street.

He was going to give a greeting when Lily pressed herself against him and kissed him. Had she been someone else, he imagined he would have greatly enjoyed such a kiss. It was far too long for propriety, and left him rather dazed as one of her hands snaked its way into his hair. After a few moments of her exploring his molars with her tongue she popped off of his face and gave him a sultry grin.

"Hullo, lover."

"Hi," he said with a great breath, trying not to pull a face.

"Hi..." Rose said in such a cantankerous way that Scorpius suddenly realized what had just transpired. Her expression looked somewhere between confusion, distaste and anger.

"So... What are you doing here?" Scorpius let out, his mind catching up to the situation as rapidly as it could. He would have to ask her to refrain from such kisses in the future as it muddled his brain.

"Brad Flooed me and told me what happened. We started looking in all the spots she might be, and I knew Rose comes here often enough. I'm not surprised you were the one to find her first. I definitely am going to give you another examination tonight."

Scorpius glanced between the two women, Lily giving him a rather convincing besotted look, and Rose giving an incredulous stare.

"Well," Scorpius swallowed, and calmed steadied himself before letting out the most stupid lie of his life.

"As you can see... Lily and I... We're involved."

"Involved," Rose repeated flatly.

"Wait a moment," Lily said before giving him a swat. "You haven't told her yet?"

"No," he said coming back to speed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Rose. It just sort of ... happened."

"A few months ago, actually," Lily added. Albus was right. Lily was an incredibly adept liar, and continued to play her role perfectly. "With all the wedding plans he didn't want to distract from you and Brad, but I thought he must have told you by now."

Rose shook her head.

"No... No he didn't tell me a thing."

"We ok?" Scorpius asked, trying to look her in the eye.

She hesitated, then gave them a smile, never looking him in the eye.

"It's fine," she said. "Really, it is. There isn't always a time to say those kinds of things the way you want to. I guess that explains your taking her fashion advice."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Lily said breezily. "On another note, Brad is worried– and we need to do some tests on Scorpius to see what he's allergic to. Why don't you go back to your apartment and then we can figure out your flower arrangement?"

"Why don't we meet at your place, then Floo him, Lily?" Rose supplied. "We could apparate there right now, in fact. You've been to her place before, right Scorpius?"

Scorpius dumbly nodded. He had never been to Lily's home. He didn't even know if it was in London. Lily gave him a panicked look.

"Are you sure you want to come directly with us? Don't you want some alone time with Brad?" Lily asked.

"It's ok," Rose said, looking between Scorpius and Lily. " _You two_  don't want alone time do you?"

Scorpius and Lily exchanged awkward glances.

"No no! There will plenty of time for us to be alone again when you're on your honeymoon," Lily supplied quickly. "But, uh, why don't you go ahead, and we'll meet you there. I have something private to tell him."

Rose made one of her faces. "Right... Well, see you there in a minute, then."

As she walked away, Lily gave her a little wave. Her other hand snaked into Scorpius' back pocket and gave it a squeeze that made him jump from her.

They could distantly hear Rose's apparation.

"Oh, God! She's going to my apartment! Why did you say you had been to my apartment?"

"I couldn't very well say I hadn't been to my girlfriend's place, could I?"

"Yes! Yes you could have! You won't know where any of my shit is, which will be a dead giveaway! Rose isn't stupid, remember?" Lily spat, clearly aggravated. "Are you sure you're a Slytherin? Because you are pathetic at this whole 'plotting' thing."

"I'm sorry, it's a bit hard to concentrate when your tongue is exploring my esophagus and your hand keeps grabbing my bum. Overkill much?".

"Ok, so I was a bit demonstrative. I'll try to hold back from making her jealous," Lily growled. "God, this is awkward as fuck."

"I agree with your sentiment," Scorpius said, giving her a look of distaste.

Lily rolled her eyes. "I could never date anyone so stuck up."

"Next time warn me before you touch me with that filthy mouth of yours," he said, leading the way to the Apparition point.

"Don't make me get those bouquets from the wedding, Asthma Boy!"

"Perhaps we can stick more to witty banter instead of wagging tongues, if you think you can manage."

"Fine. No more unexpected wagging-tongues. She'll get so jealous that you're arguing with me, instead of her, she'll dump Brad immediately," she said dryly.

"Well, at least warn me a bit. It befuddles the mind," he said. "And I need it to stay sharp for all the 'plotting' I'm so pathetic at."

"Let's just Apparate," she said holding his arm a bit too firmly.

Scorpius felt a squeeze around his chest. He hoped it was just due to the side-along apparition, and not nerves at having begun a farce that meant continually lying to his best and oldest friend.


	8. Fiery Dandelion

Rose sat in front of the common room fireplace. Her parents had said she would be so in love with Hogwarts that she would forget to write them, but she found herself writing to them every day, sometimes multiple times. Friends and classes didn't really occupy her time like they had said. She even found she missed her spastic little brother. She wanted to dive head-first into her childish stuffed animals and tell them all her secrets. It was not like she had any real friends to share secrets with.

It was December first, meaning she only had seventeen days to endure before going home. Having it be so close made it even harder put up with the waiting.

It was still dark outside. Lately she had been waking up before everyone else. She would stay in the common room until the clock chimed, and curfew was no longer enforced, be the first person to get her breakfast and first to her classes, never having spoken to a soul. No one but Al would talk to her or sit by her once in class. It would be easy for anyone to be contented with that.

"Rosie?"

She turned and saw James.

"What are you doing up?" His hair was even more ruffled than usual, and his voice sounded like a croak.

"I don't know," she said, turning away and quickly wiping her eyes. "What are  _you_  doing up?"

"I wanted to get in some Quidditch. There's going to be some tryouts for a replacement tomorrow. One of the Chasers quit the team because it was 'interfering with schoolwork,' which is bloody stupid. Who would want to give up Quidditch for something as dumb as school?"

"Apparently the Chaser who quit," said Rose. "I'm sure you'll do well at tryouts, James. You're as good a flyer as either of your parents."

"I know that," said James. Humility was never something he suffered from. "I'm just worried they'll be biased against me because I'm younger than everyone else."

"Well, have fun flying," she said, getting her books together and heading for the door.

"Want to come see how awesome I am? I think I've gotten better since you last saw me," said James, fidgeting a bit with his broom.

"Sure, though you may not want to say that sort of stuff at the tryouts. They might keep you off the team for being a berk," she laughed.

"Good point. I won't point out how great I am until I'm on the team," he said with a firm nod.

As they walked to the field, he thankfully prattled on about himself and Quidditch the whole time. Though she was very close with Al, the way that he kept asking her 'how she was doing' had gotten old fast.

That was something about her brother she dearly missed. He never prodded into her emotional state. Hugo would see her being sad, give her a bear hug, then distract her with his hyper merriment.

"Blast! There's someone already there," James said with a kick at some icicle covered brush.

High in the air someone was bundled up and flying. His or her flying was too smooth for it to be a school broom, and Rose vainly tried to decipher what kind it was. The Bundled Someone did a number of first-class acrobatic turns and loop de loops. James let out an impressed whistle.

"He's good!"

"And just how do you know that flyer is a he?"

"Well, look at him. Flies like a guy."

"It could be a girl you know! Holyhead Harpies are all women, and they perform just as well as the men. Even better than the men last year, taking the League Cup!" Rose argued back.

"And that's why you don't have any friends," James said with his annoying lopsided smile, before jumping on his broom and joining the unknown flyer. Rose watched with a frown, and crossed her arms tightly.

She could have tons of friends if she wanted to. It was just because the girls in her dorm were loathsome that she did not have friends in her year yet. She had dubbed the other Gryffindor girls The Quartet. The leader of The Quartet was a pretty brunette named Gemma Davies. Their first day of classes,she had made fun of Rose's hair. The second day of classes Gemma had made rude comments about Rose's height. The third day she made a crack about Rose's lack of friends and got cursed into the hospital wing. Rose had only discolored Gemma's hair to a putrid green color, which didn't really warrant a visit to the hospital wing, but Gemma had cried as if Rose had done a blasting curse. The other three girls did whatever Gemma wanted, and seemed to like her, despite Gemma being one of the stupidest girls in the world, leaving Rose without a female companion. She now had a string of nasty nicknames. The Fiery Dandelion seemed to be the favorite, despite its length. Fiery Dandelion was a rather apt description of her. She much resembled one, what with her long skinny frame, and giant pouf for hair on top. The use of Dandelion even vaguely referenced that she was a Gryffindor and that her name was a kind of flower, but Rose doubted this bit of cleverness had been noted by Gemma or anyone else.

She looked to the air again. James seemed to be getting along with the Bundled Someone, and they were elegantly performing tricks and trying to outdo eachother. James managed to easily make friends, despite being a certified jackass. Her whole family was like that. Victoire was incredibly popular and pretty. Fred, though not quite as well-loved as James, was still very popular. Molly and Lucy had their own gang of close friends. Dominique was one of the prettiest girls in Hogwarts, and had a following of admirers. Al was not exactly popular, but had a group of friends to call his own and seemed to get on well with everyone. Rose only had family members she could occasionally hang out with, but that was enough to completely satisfy anyone. Who needed any friends beyond family? She would always be better off than Malfoy. He did not have a single friend or family member to do anything with, much to her satisfaction.

"Ah, that reminds me!" she said to herself.

Thinking of Malfoy brought her unfinished letter back to mind.

_Dear Mum and Dad and Hugo,_

_Only seventeen days until Christmas vacation begins, and I can't wait to see you all and tell you about my classes. Maybe you can let me perform some spells for you, even though I'm not supposed to? I am dying to show you my charms! I'm very first in that class. That and History of Magic I am soundly the best in. The rest I am either tied or slightly behind Malfoy._

_I checked our averages yesterday, and I am still tied for first in my class with him. It's just not fair! No matter how hard I try, he manages to have the exact same average as me._

_Al is still the best at potions. I don't know how, but though I will make a textbook perfect potion, he will deviate from the recipe, and it ends up better than mine and Malfoy's. If he weren't my partner, I might be mad!_

_Thank you for the chocolates, books and that painting Hugo sent. I love you all and miss you so much,_

_Rose_

With a tap of her wand and the command 'send!' her letter vanished from the page. She looked up to see James and the Bundled Someone were merrily tossing a practice Quaffle. The Bundled Someone was a very good flyer, and James was clearly enjoying the challenge of such a skilled opponent. Their flying was beautiful, really. Rose could only wish to be such a natural flyer. Rose was a very good flyer, but compared to others in her family, she knew that she was far outstripped in pure talent. She would have to work hard to be that good at Quidditch, and Rose wasn't sure she had it in her to work that hard. It was those moments where she wished she were a Hufflepuff so she really would be the best. She probably would have already made friends in Hufflepuff too.

James took a sudden nose dive towards her then stopped just feet in front of her nose. After years of him doing this, she was no longer alarmed. The Bundled Someone mimicked her cousin's path and elegantly landed beside him, though giving himself a much more polite distance between himself and Rose.

"All done then?" she asked, smiling at the two with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. "That was wicked flying, you two."

"I know, right?" James said with a broad grin. "I can't wait to play this one someday. That is, if he actually tries out."

"There aren't any openings on the team, right now, but in a couple years there will be one for Seeker," came the muffled reply from behind the anonymous boy's ski-mask.

"You'd do well as a Seeker," Rose said, very impressed. "You're a great flyer!"

"Uh, thanks," he replied, looking confused. "We probably need to head back to get breakfast."

"I know  _I'm_  famished!" James stated before putting the broom over his shoulders. "Maybe I'll sit with you and get you some friends, Rosie."

"I- I don't need your help making friends, thank much, James."

"Well, you're not going to find any in that group of girls in your dorm, that's for sure. They're a bunch of stuck up wenches. What were they calling you again? Something about a dandelion on fire?"

Rose took a glimpse at Bundled Whoever, who was purposefully looking away. She looked down at her shoes and felt her face become red.

"Please, just drop it, James," she said pitifully, giving an indicating glance to the stranger with them..

"Oh, right. Sorry," James said with a shrug. She did not think he was actually sorry at all. He rarely was. "Some food is what I need. You should try eating, that always makes me feel better."

"I'm not hungy. You two go on to your breakfasts."

"Don't be sore, Rosie," said James.

"I'm not sore! I just am not hungry," she stated, despite her stomach giving a loud growl in the contrary. She said nothing more before going to the Potions classroom. She didn't even care to find out who the Bundled Someone was. Her eyes were watering and her bottom lip was trembling. She did not need friends in order to be happy. Why did he think she needed help with that?

The door to the Potions classroom was thankfully open, and she didn't have to wait in the hallway with other people.

"Good Morning, Miss Weasley. You're certainly here early," said Professor Cauldwell from his desk.

Rose nodded.

"The Potion for your class will be recorded upon the board in a moment, until then, take a seat," he said with a nod to her normal seat in the front row.

She promptly sat and got out her Weasley Wizard Wordsmith to see if her parents had replied. She unfolded the paper to find nothing but a blank page staring back at her. They were just busy. After all, it wasn't even eight fifteen according to the clock on the far wall. Perhaps they were busy getting Hugo ready for school, and having coffee before work. They would never purposefully ignore her.

"Miss Weasley, if you want, you can set up your cauldron and get your ingredients," said Professor Cauldwell. He nodded towards the board. He had spelled the chalk to record the potion without her noticing.

She started gathering the ingredients and gear she would need. Malfoy had ended up with the cubby at the end, next to hers. No one wanted to chose one next to him, of course. Every time she got to her cubby, he was always there to insult her in some way. They mostly avoided each other, but this was the time of week he seemed to go out of his way to make his loathing of her clear. He was always there, like clockwork. No matter what time she went to her cubby, he would be there, with new and clever insults, and she would have just as many to give him. She looked at the cubby next to hers in anticipation. In a trice she saw him swoop towards his cubby. He was nothing, if not reliable.

"Timely as ever, Malfoy. Your best friend must be your pocket watch."

She waited for his witty retorts to come. They didn't. He ignored her and retrieved vials of ingredients. Part of her felt disappointed.

"Did you run out of material? You could always order your houseelves to write something for you to say. I bet it would be ten times as clever as whatever you would come up with."

Malfoy just fixed her with penetrating stare, his large gray eyes never blinking.

"You get weirder every day," she huffed, grabbing her supplies and taking her seat at the front of the class. Malfoy sat near the back of the class room, as usual.

She took her time setting up her cauldron, checked again to see if she had gotten a reply from her parents, and finished her Charms essay that wasn't due for another week, before other students started trickling in. Al sat next to her with a great thud, looking put out.

"You weren't at breakfast again."

"Strangely enough, I noticed that."

Al gave her a look.

"I went with James to the Quidditch pitch."

"What? Why?" Al asked with distaste.

"Because the only way to get someone to play with her is to tie her to a broomstick," said Gemma Davies, sitting at the table behind her. Her best friend, Hana Zhang, tittered.

"When we poll the 'slow' kids for their opinions, you'll be the first one we talk to, Davies," Rose spat, not bothering to look at the girl. Gemma sniffed and didn't respond.

"Good comeback, Gemma," Al laughed. "Really clever!"

Soon class was underway, and Cauldwell had them all busily brewing cures for vomiting. Cauldwell walked between the students' potions, letting each know how they were coming along. He congratulated Al right off the bat, much to Rose's annoyance. Al had the idea to add some lemon zest in the potion to quell the bitter aftertaste, and it worked perfectly, of course. How he was able to deviate from the potion's recipe without ruining it was beyond her. Al looked quietly pleased with himself. Perhaps having the big-headed James for a brother helped you keep your feet on the ground, for Al never bragged about his obviously superior abilities at Potions.

"Let's see yours, Miss Weasley," said Cauldwell. He leaned over and carefully inspected the contents of her cauldron. "The correct orange color it should be... Characteristic purple spirals of smoke... Textbook example. Well done."

Rose nodded. Cauldwell walked next to Gemma's cauldron, which was a strange greenish color and emitting blue clouds of smoke. Gemma's perfectly quaffed hair was looking a bit wilted.

"Miss Davies, you added the ginger root too soon. Class, who can tell me what we can do to remedy the problem?"

"If you add minced cardamom and start over from step four, it can be fixed," Rose said, not bothering to raise her hand. Cauldwell nodded in approval. Gemma sneered at Rose, but quickly began to mince her cardamom.

"What step is it from, Hana?" Gemma quietly asked her partner.

"Step four," Rose said automatically.

"What's step four, Hana? I can't read the board. There's too much flaming hair in my way," she spat. Al stiffened and turned around to look at Gemma.

"Step four is to add armadillo bile," Rose supplied, rolling her eyes.

"For someone so smart, you'd think she'd have figured out how to get friends," said Gemma.

"Perhaps if any of the girls in my dorm could outsmart a troll, I'd want to befriend them," Rose responded, tightly holding her wand.

"Oh, of course. That's why we're not friends with you!" Gemma laughed. "And here I thought it was because no one wants to be seen with an ugly know-it-all, who guilts her family into tolerating her, and whose only friends are her good grades."

Rose was not aware of raising her wand, all she knew was that she wanted to get that self-satisfied smirk off of Gemma Davies' face. She forgot she was in a classroom. She forgot there was a professor standing not three yards away. She forgot all good curses and hexes... She drew her wand and said the first spell that came to mind-

" _Vacca vocus_!"

Gemma's skin erupted into an array of purple boils and her hair began to fall out.

In her panic to escape, Gemma knocked her cauldron over onto herself and Hana, who let out a high pitched scream.

Rose looked on, agog, as the burner rolled from under the cauldron and caught the table on fire. All the students began to yell and run away from their tables.

"SILENCE!  _AQUAMENTI_!" she heard Professor Cauldwell yell. He then deftly vanished the potion away with a flick of his wand. Cauldwell bent over the girls and muttered a few charms, a vein in his forehead scarily pulsing in anger.

"I don't get it, the spell I did was supposed to make her moo like a cow," Rose muttered to Al, who had turned pale as Nearly-Headless Nick. His wand was out and pointed squarely where Gemma had been standing.

"Moooooo," Gemma whined as Cauldwell gently helped her up. Rose would have laughed if Cauldwell had not been glaring at her.

"Ok, girls, let's get you to the hospital wing," he said quietly. He assigned the rest of The Quartet to accompany them to the hospital wing.

"Weasley. Potter. Put your wands on my desk and escort yourselves to the hallway," Cauldwell said shortly. Rose and Al did so as quickly as they could, heads hung low. "You too, Malfoy."

Rose and Al turned around at the doorway, both equally shocked. Malfoy was hastily trying to hide his wand.

"But- but Professor, I wouldn't help-" Malfoy blustered.

"Malfoy, don't even _try_  to act innocent. I saw you pointing your wand at Miss Davies. Wand on my desk now, if you please."

Malfoy did as he was told and joined them in the hallway, avoiding their eyes, ears turned pink.

Cauldwell had them all sit at the wall in a line. He closed the door behind him with an efficient slam.

"Thirty points will be taken from each of your houses, you will each serve six detentions, and you three are banned from this classroom for the following week."

"But, Proffessor, how will we keep up?"

"You all have high enough grades that it won't wreak havoc on your averages, Miss Weasley. You will arrive to sit outside this classroom ten minutes early, so I can confiscate your wands accordingly and not waste more class time due to this foolishness. You three know better than to pull out your wand and hex someone, no matter what."

With that he went back into the classroom, leaving the odd trio to sit and contemplate about what they did.

"I'll help you two revise for whatever potions they do next week," Al said with a sigh.

Rose and Malfoy both shot him an angry look.

"What? We all three know I'm the best at potions. It's my one good class. Can't you two stand for someone to be better than you in just one class?" Al said. He gave a knowing laugh at their silence.

"Why did you do that, Malfoy?" asked Rose.

"I didn't do anything," he replied, coolly turning his head away from her.

"There were three spells cast, so we know you cast the third one," said Al.

"Gemma Davies is even more annoying than Weasley, here. The two of them fighting was a headache. I could have just as easily hit Weasley and be just as contented with my balding hex," said Malfoy, never once deigning to look at them.

"You know, for a moment there was I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt. It's like you try to be the most disappointing prat in Hogwarts," Rose said trying to get up and stomp away. Her seat held firmly to the ground.

"Looks like Cauldwell did a sticking charm on all our arses," Al said, trying in vain to lift his hips. Scorpius didn't bother trying to budge.

"Weasley, you have never given anyone the benefit of the doubt."

"I gave you the benefit of the doubt September first," she replied shrilly.

"Ha!"

"I did, you prat! I even thought you were put in the wrong house at first! But you totally weren't. Slytherin fits you just  _perfect_!"

"Thanks for proving my point! You can't help but judge my whole house. People have to continually prove themselves to you for you to accept them, but you never really do. Your warped little mind can't help but judge people in the harshest light. "

"That is not true!" She was sick and tired of being criticized and told how horrible she was.

"If you don't believe me, ask your cousin then," said Scorpius looking at Al.

Al's eyes went wide.

"Oi, don't get me involved in your fight!"

"I don't do that, do I, Al?" Rose said with a smile, knowing her cousin and closest friend would back her up.

"Well... Why are you putting me on the spot like this?" Al asked, looking between the two uncomfortably.

"It's a straight forward question, Al. It shouldn't be that hard to answer. I don't judge people harshly," said Rose, tightly.

"I... Not  _all_  the time..." Al's voice faded.

Scorpius arched an eyebrow and said nothing.

"You judge people too!" cried Rose.

"Not like you do, Rose Weasley. You've done nothing but assume the worst of me the moment I was sorted into Slytherin, bashing my house left and right."

"Well, if Slytherin is so great, why haven't you found any friends there?"

"Like you have any in Gryffindor! I have my family being held against me. It's your personality that keeps  _you_  from having any friends."

Rose felt a lead weight settle in her stomach. She hated him. He was smug, and cruel, and right. That was the worst. Everyone hated her, and she deserved it. She had no friends, and did not merit having any. A slow horrible feeling came over her. It started at the base of her spine, and worked its way through her hair. Her lip began to tremble, and her eyes began to sting. Al immediately panicked.

"Oh no, Rosie, don't cry," he said, but it was too late.

Try as she did, she could not stop it. A giant sob escaped her. And then another one. Unbidden tears began to come into her eyes. She was in a hallway, bottom stuck to the floor, friendless, horrible, ugly, and crying so hard she was almost certain her eyelids would turn inside out. And Malfoy was there to see her finally break. She was not a pretty crier. She thought of her cousin Dominique, whose perfect tears never reddened her nose or eyes and whose face remained porcelain and pristine even in her most heinous of fits. Rose was resembling the blotchy red face of Jupiter in complexion. Al was trying as he could to comfort her from his spot, weirdly patting her frizzy hair.

"I... I hate Hogwarts! I hate it... I want to go home," Rose cried.

"Don't say that, Rosie," Al tried to say consolingly. Rose gave a ridiculous howl of a cry in his direction and pulled her boney knees up to her eyes to hide her red face.

"Here," she heard from her side.

She looked over to see a blur of white handkerchief. Malfoy was holding it, looking at her in his weird solemn sort of way.

"And I-I hate you too," Rose said with a sob, but grabbing the handkerchief all the same.

"Rose!" admonished Al.

"It's fine," Malfoy replied. She made a vociferous honk blowing her nose. She was going to ask him what sort of child goes around with a handkerchief when the bell sounded. Rose felt a panic so keenly she thought she might faint.

"Oh no! Everyone will see!" she cried, trying to wipe her face clear and stop her tears. She looked about for an idea of any sort as to how to hide herself, but none came. She was trapped in her place. The tears hadn't stopped, and her wire thin frame was still shaking with the force of her sobs. The door opened, and out poured the students. Every single one openly stared as they walked past. Cauldwell came out a moment later, and looked at Rose with a sort of bewildered confusion, as if the baring of one's emotions was something strange and foreign he'd never heard of.

"Miss Weasley, are you quite alright?"

Rose shook her head and furiously rubbed at her eyes.

"She's just had a bad day, Professor," Al replied for her.

Cauldwell got a calming draught from his office. The draught helped the crying subside a bit, but did nothing to make her appear less like a red radish. Al walked along the hall, and Rose followed. She gave the odd stifled whimper punctuated with an ugly sniff of her nose as they travelled. Malfoy walked with them, and Rose was too exhausted to give his presence any thought.

"You hungry?" Al asked her.

She was, but would rather die than go into the dining hall in her current condition.

"You want me to find Victoire?"

"No."

"You should go to your dorm and stay there as long as you need," said Scorpius. "Al can explain it to Professor Longbottom. You're one of his favorites, he'll understand."

"That's a good idea," said Al. Scorpius gave a shrug.

Rose nodded and went up to her dormitory, burying her face in her pillow and falling asleep.

She woke up some time later, judging by how the sun was close to setting. Moments like this, when she had the massive dorm room to herself, and could look out over the woods, Hogwarts didn't seem so bad.

There was a basket next to her bed with an assortment of sandwiches and a big blue ribbon on top which she laid into immediately. No doubt Al had arranged that. Once her stomach was satisfied she took the ribbon off and braided it into her vivid hair. Now would be the ideal time to go downstairs and face her huge family. She doubted any of them really wanted to interact with her, but they would be curious. Her whole family was like that. They always wanted to know everybody else's business, even though they pretended otherwise. If an uncle of hers were to be mugged, come sunrise the next day everyone would be capable of reporting the color of the offenders' eyes to the Aurors. There was something comforting in that closeness, she supposed, but not having your more embarrassing moments quickly spread made it decidedly unenviable. Al was one of the few who didn't relish telling everyone else the details. He usually inadvertently would give away her confidences while trying to help. Gemma Davies had been right about her family not wanting to spend time with her. She just knew it. They did it out of duty. Al hung about her as much as he did because she wouldn't have any friends otherwise.

She was about to head downstairs to face her family's questions when she noticed a note in the basket. The script was elegant, dark and slanted, but unrecognizable.

" _I saw you are having a rough time of things. I know how it feels. You should stop skipping meals. Try one of the Hufflepuff tables. One of your cousins can introduce you. There are some nice girls there who you would get along with."_

It was unsigned.

What an odd note to send someone. Who would write this to her? How did they get it up to her room? She had been caught crying in front of her whole Potions class, so perhaps it was one of them. Perhaps it was a kind professor taking pity on their star pupil. Perhaps it was the plot of a rogue Deatheater, set to poison her! Fine,that was a touch dramatic; but it felt decidedly odd. Who would want to pay that close of attention to her?

There was a knock on the door.

"Coming!" she called, scrambling off her four-poster.

"Rose, it's Neville," she heard through the door.

She quickly opened it for him.

"Hi," said Rose, blushing a bit as he eyed her with concern. She felt patently ridiculous for being so weak as to fetter away her afternoon just crying and sleeping. He looked rather nervous to be entering the girl's dormitory, and tenuously sat at the end of her messy bed.

"We missed you today in Herbology," he said, patting the seat beside him for her to sit.

"No one missed this ugly know-it-all," muttered Rose, curling up beside him.

"Now, Rose, I don't want to hear you say things like that," said Neville.

"Why not? It's true. No one likes me here. No one! I haven't one friend. Do you know how miserable it is not to have one friend?"

"I can imagine it."

"I don't think you can imagine how cruel people can be to an ugly thing like me. I'm lanky, freckled, have insane hair... And I'm perfectly obnoxious to everyone. I don't even try to be, I just am. It's miserable knowing everyone dislikes me for just being me. In the end, though, I don't want them as friends. I know it makes me sound wicked, but it's the truth. All the girls do is giggle, none of them are smart or funny. Who needs them!"

Neville was looking at his worn hands as she spoke. He had on fingerless gloves, and had a good bit of dirt hiding under his nails.

"Have you ever heard of the silicis plant, Rose?" Neville asked, picking at his thumb's cuticle.

She shook her head no.

"It's an interesting little plant. When it first starts to grow from a seed, it looks a bit like a weed, all prickles, looks half-dead, and twists around the ground with a stalk that can't support anything, yet alone a lovely flower. All the same, you'll find it planted in almost every garden."

"If it's so ugly and prickly, why would they?"

"Well, it's a dead useful little plant. It slowly crawls up the other plants, but without overtaking them. Its tiny thorns scare off any predators from eating the plants it roosts on, and it makes the earth more fertile. It needs the other plants, though, because it can't reach the sunlight to flourish without them. When the silicis blooms, it is just as pretty as any of those other plants, with blossoms of every color you can imagine. They need each other in order to really reach their full potential."

"So you're saying I need to befriend those girls so I can get a makeover and be pretty, and they can get fertile knowledge?" said Rose, skeptical.

"How in the world you construed that meaning from what I just said is beyond me..." said Neville, looking overwhelmed. "No. I'm just saying, you may think you don't need other people, but you do, and they need you. Who knows how you will help each other, but you do need one another. Everyone has worth, and you never know how it can flourish. I mean, if you judged the silicis by a first glance, you might weed it out before giving it a chance... And you may feel like an ugly little shrub right now, but someday you'll blossom and be the prettiest flower in the garden."

"So you're saying I'm a prickly weedy little thing now?" Rose said, a bit of mirth playing in her blue eyes.

"No! I'm- I'm not very good at picking examples. I'm all about plants, and don't know much about what to say in these situations, despite my having a girl of my own." He looked downright flustered.

"It's ok, Uncle Neville. I think I get what you meant," said Rose, taking hold of his grubby hand. "Thank you. I suppose I just have to be contented with the fact that I'm a ornery shrub right now."

"You're not, Rose," he protested.

"I was only kidding," said Rose with a smile. "But you're right, I really do need to see the worth in others. I may hate that awful Malfoy, but he was right when he said I judge others too quickly. It probably doesn't make me any friends."

"You know, I was surprised you and Malfoy haven't been friends, actually. You two were getting on so well before the sorting feast. And then the next day he was the one to come get me when you were stuck in the stair."

Rose was all astonishment. She had thought Malfoy had left her to suffer in the stair. Instead he had been the one student to help her, and she had returned the favor by insulting his family right off the bat. And today she called him the biggest disappointment in Hogwarts, even though he had just finished getting detention for defending her. She really was nothing but prickles.

"I thought you two were sure to be fast friends, both being so clever and bookish. Well, that's neither here nor there. You should head downstairs to dinner. Your family is quite worried."

"My family?" Rose said dazedly. "Oh no! Have you told my parents? Are they mad?"

"They're more concerned than mad, really. They probably sent you a letter or five. You'd best reply to them tonight."

"I will."

She went downstairs with Uncle Neville to find all of her cousins gathered at the fireplace. James and Fred had a chess board between them but neither were looking at it. Lucy was making a pile of tiny parchment balls, while Molly would half-halfheartedly chuck them at the fire place. Victiore was showing nail charms to Dominique, but the colors kept coming out a dull gray. Al was sitting in the chair, staring at his shoes.

"Hey," said Rose from the stairs.

"Rosie!" they all exclaimed at once.

She was quickly engulfed in a crushing hug, unable to tell who was squeezing the hardest. Neville quietly excused himself from the room.

"I'm sorry I upset you," said James off the bat.

"What? It wasn't you that upset me," replied Rose.

"We all tried to tell him that, but he doesn't listen very well," said Victoire.

"Of course it was me. Sorry I embarrassed you this morning. Don't take what I said to heart, about your not being able to make friends because you're argumentative. You're bound to make a friend outside of the family some time in the next seven years! Some people like swots. I mean, look at your mum! Don't ever think different! I'll bribe them into being friends with you, if I have to! To make it up to you for this morning, you can come see my tryout tomorrow, and even come celebrate my getting on the team afterwards. How'd you like that?" asked James, grinning broadly.

Al rolled his eyes.

"Sounds great," said Rose, shaking her head ruefully. Her cousins all looked away from James as if to temporarily disassociate themselves from him.

"The rest of you can come too. Even you, Al. I'm feeling generous."

They headed to dinner together, mostly ignoring James' prattling. As they all sat together laughing and talking, Rose couldn't help but think Gemma Davies hadn't been more wrong about her family. Gemma and everyone else had been wrong, she did have friends in Hogwarts. Who cared if they were her family; they were the best friends a person could ask for. Fred had charmed their spaghetti to float in the air and make noodle drawings by request, one a particularly accurate portrait of the ancient caretaker Filtch, before Headmistress Sprout intervened (though she seemed to have a twitch of a smile as she stopped them.)

As Rose laughed at the spectacle of splattering noodle drawings she felt the peculiar sensation of being stared at. She looked over to the Slytherin table to see Scorpius Malfoy quickly shift his glance back to his plate. He was completely by himself, as usual, with a good yard of space on either side of him. She got the idea to ask him to join them, but as soon as the idea came to her, he put down his utensils and left the Great Hall. It was a silly idea, anyways. He wouldn't want to be friends with her at this point. If their roles were reversed she'd never want to see him again.

She tried her best to have fun the rest of the evening, but it was a bit difficult somehow.


	9. The Macabre Apartment

Scorpius thought he knew Lily Potter fairly well, but upon seeing where she lived, he was convinced he was a rotten judge of people. In the moments before side-along Apparating with Lily he very clearly imagined what her residence might look like. It would be an apartment, he was almost sure, have a cheerful window box full of flowers, sunlight streaming in, a cozy air, and be much like the Potter's family home he had visited many times before.

Reality reflected his mental picture with the clarity of a funhouse mirror.

Her apartment’s one window would have been cheerful, if its few panes were not facing a dank brick wall that shut out the sun. It would have been cozy if the furniture were not colorless, utilitarian and sparse. It would have been pleasant if there were not a shelf unit filled with jars of organs and grizzly pieces of anatomy.

Scorpius shuddered as he stared at a half-transfigured hand floating in a greenish liquid.

"That one always freaks me out, too," said Rose as she sat beside Scorpius. They shared a smile, but she quickly looked away, her face falling into a cold mask. They silently sat as sounds of furniture scraping and a series of curses issued forth from Lily’s bedroom.

“Here it is!” Lily brought out a bag so very large, Scorpius was surprised she was able to stand upright with it.

"So, Lily, have you ever considered putting up art instead of jars of floating appendages?" asked Rose.

Lily blankly pointed to a gruesome anatomical diagram on the opposite wall.

"I was thinking something less Jack the Ripper," said Rose.

"Who?"

"How could you not know this? He was a famous muggle serial killer from a century and a half ago."

"Why would anyone know that?”

“He murdered muggle prostitutes, and mutilated their corpses with near-medical precision in dark alleyways and was never caught. They never even found out his identity."

“Who says it was a he? Bet I could do all that, easy,” said Lily. Rose and Scorpius blanched as they looked around her macabre apartment. 

“Oh honestly... I’m a healer! What do you want? Those are trophies from cool stuff at work. Plus, I’m barely ever here! Would it make you more comfortable if I brought out my shoe collection? That’s nice and non-healerish. I have a pair of pumps you could stare at for hours and almost never think of corpses," said Lily, laughing a bit. 

Scorpius supposed it was meant to be funny, but the severed hand was too distracting for him to register anything akin to humor.

With a roll of her eyes, Lily conjured a large pink cloth and draped it over the morbid shelf unit.

"Better?"

"Much," replied Rose.

Lily opened her giant black bag and removed several glass vials, each labelled with strange symbols he couldn't make out. Without warning, her hand lunged forward and clamped around Scorpius' wrist. There was a sudden stinging sensation in his arm as her wand jabbed into the crook of his elbow. He gave a short cry of protest, which she didn't seem to hear.

"I've removed some of your blood."

Blood was now sitting in the once empty jars; it looked like a greater amount than 'some' to Scorpius. He felt a bit weak somewhere around his knees and sunk further into the sofa. 

"The jars are enchanted to tell us what you were allergic to in the chapel. We'll know everything you are allergic to in that location within an hour or less."

"Why don't you just test to see what he's allergic to full-stop so he won't have asthma anymore?" asked Rose.

"We could do that. I'd have to drain his whole body of blood roughly two thousand times, though. With lots of blood replenishing potions we could do it in about a year, barring his death."

Scorpius felt his throat go dry at the thought of Lily stealing any more of his blood for her awful little jars. 

"You look faint. Have a biscuit," said Lily, thrusting one into Scorpius's mouth. "If you don't eat it, you will get light-headed and might pass out."

"If that's how you treat your boyfriend, I shudder to think of how you treat your patients," said Rose as she picked at an errant cuticle.

"I'm nicer to patients because I can't treat them with lots of dirty kinky sex after extracting their blood."

Scorpius choked on the biscuit, utterly shocked at her indecorous comment. Rose fixed her eyes on the ceiling as if silently willing for a tile to knock her uncharacteristically incorrigible cousin unconscious. Lily looked pleased enough at both reactions; she had a gleam in her eye that meant she was plotting something. He supposed he should be grateful and excited, but instead he just felt perturbed and unnerved. He prided himself on not being easily rattled and orchestrating events to his liking, but between Al and Lily, nothing had been in his control, and their chaotic Potter energy was quickly fraying his nerves. It felt like he had been pushed into a never ending Floo ride with no idea of where or if he would be spit out.

"You want a biscuit as well, Rose?"

"Sure."

Lily started rooting through her bag. After a moment, most of her body seemed to be within the dark satchel.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid I'm all out. I'll get you some from the cupboard."

"Don't trouble yourself—"

"No trouble at all!" said Lily, practically running out of her living room. "Tea as well?"

"I suppose..." said Rose, her brow beginning to furrow.

"Oh dear! I'm completely out. The store is just a few minutes away. I can be there and back again in the beat of a Snitch's wing."

Lily said this all very fast, without taking a breath, before Apparrating out of her house with a loud pop, leaving Scorpius and Rose behind in the odd apartment.

"Everyone has gone mad," said Rose with a shake of her head. "And I am too tired to move from this spot. Let's just stay here for a week or so. I think that'd be just about enough time for me to rest up from today."

"I'm sorry about today," Scorpius replied. He received a swift painful jab to his side. "What was that for?"

"Tosser. Stop apologizing."

"Fine. I'm glad you didn't get married to that self-absorbed git," he said, eyes determinedly settled on Lily's book shelf. Rose gave a laugh, and Scorpius gritted his teeth. Rose laid her head back against the cushions, and gave him a sidelong glance.

"So... You and Lily, huh?"

Scorpius nodded.

"When did this happen?"

"A few months ago," he replied stiffly.

"Yeah, you said that earlier... I just- You barely ever see each other. How did you come to be 'involved?'"

Scorpius had always had the ability to lie. One of his oldest memories was a time he fibbed to his grandfather. Dinner was fast approaching, and his parents had forbidden him to indulge in sweets until after they had all eaten. He had asked several times if he could have a biscuit, but each time they quickly responded with a resounding 'no.' Finally, they put the biscuits on a perilously high shelf in a pantry that was soundly latched, a good six feet above the ground. Not one to be deterred, Scorpius pulled over a tall stool and proceeded to climb it and unlatch the cupboard door.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" he heard his grandfather ask from behind him.

"You forgot to latch the cupboard door. I wanted to latch it for you," Scorpius smoothly lied.

His grandfather laughed about it for a good twenty minutes, and ended up giving him the biscuits for 'pure cheek.'

Thus started an illustrious career of being able to lie well when it truly counted.

So when Rose asked him how he and Lily came to be a couple, he knew he would be able to lie without trouble. It would be almost laughingly easy.

"How?" he asked. His eyes went wide. His mind was blank. There were millions of ways he could have seen Lily again and become her boyfriend, surely. He couldn't think of one.

"Yeah. How'd it happen?"

How in the world did young people meet and have it lead to romance?

"The usual way, I expect."

Rose stared at him, flatly.

Scorpius was not sure what would be a proficient answer. After all, he hadn't been romantically entwined for quite a while. There were easy ways to discount why he would have stumbled upon a stranger, but Lily Potter? She was like him, a creature of habit, that rarely traveled anywhere outside of the narrow confines of her limited social life and work. Work!

"We met up through work."

For some reason, this answer did not please her. She was still looking at him as if more information was needed.

"I was acting as a consultant to redo some of their out of date wards, and perhaps expand a floor of three. There are some particularly shoddy expansion charms there that need to be fixed, or they will eventually face the problem of shrinking rooms. That's what you get, really, for hiring a cheap goblin labor. The goblins don't have set building standards they adhere to, and use charms that don't meld well with ours... Oh, and then I saw Lily in the elevator there, and we've been together since."

"Thanks for all those details. Sounds positively romantic, Scorpius."

"We're not particularly romantic, really."

"With the way Lily was hanging about you earlier? She was practically mounting you."

Scorpius grimaced.

"I have talked to her about that."

Rose gave a laugh. "Most men would love that in a girl, probably. It took years before I'd so much as kiss Brad on the cheek in public."

"Well, I'd never try to fondle you how he did at Al's today."

"That is not what happened." Rose face sobered rather quickly. Her chin was aloft in the air.

He knew when it was best to distance yourself from Rose. Whenever she was put on the defensive about something, it was best to stop pursuing it immediately. She had the habit of debating it until you agreed or died. No, he found keeping quiet and distracting her the best option.

"Hmm..." said Scorpius, getting up from the couch to inspect a shelf of books.

Predictably, Rose followed him.

"He didn't try to fondle me."

"Fine."

"He's just... good at displaying his affection."

"Endearing," Scorpius bit out.

"Whenever he sees me, his whole face lights up. He'll run right up to me and kiss me as if I've been away for years," she said fondly.

"Like a Labrador?"

"Yes- no! He's just honest and caring."

He preferred to think that there were better ways of showing affection than just being seemingly happy to see them and greeting them with a tongue exploring their uvula. What a warped world he lived in. He hoped this would be the end of her discussing Brad's endearing qualities. If he was going to feel ill, he'd rather do it by looking at the array of appendages now hiding under the pink blanket.

"He's demonstrative. More than I could ever be, really. He tells me how much he loves me every day. There's a strange comfort in knowing how much someone loves you, without question."

How wonderful.

"Seeing how much you mean to someone, and not having a secret worry they just don't feel for you deeply... I get that with him. Well, you must kind of understand. That must be what it's like with you and Lily?"

"Me and Lily..."Scorpius shrugged.

Rose had a hand trailing down the spines of books, feeling the changing textures between the leather books, and the smooth dust covers of newer ones. She repeated this a few times, and he noted that her long fingered hands were more well manicured than usual. He wondered if they were as soft as they looked. He would much prefer her hands to be trailing through his-

He flinched. Now was not the time to be thinking about such things. They were at close proximity, he had a plan to stick with, and could not afford to think of Rose in any lascivious way, no matter how enticing her lithe fingers were.

"Well, you two just started seeing each other. I guess it would be silly to think of it the same as me and Brad."

"I don't know about that," said Scorpius distractedly.

"Oh?"

Rose's hand still moved up and down books' spines, making a rhythmic sound as her fingernails gently caught on cover after cover. Rose was not exactly a graceful girl. She had a swan like neck, and legs that went on forever, but these beauties tended to be looked over by people due to her tendency to slouch, curse, and how she moved like a young filly, not quite accustomed to its long limbs. People also never seemed to love her hair like he did. It was wild and color of dark flames. When the sun hit it just right, he could watch her hair for hours.

It was almost a blessing that she was not as graceful as she looked, otherwise she would be far too much of a distraction for him to function. He would probably forget to eat and just stare at her until he wasted away into nothing. He had heard people criticize her thinness, hair and freckles over the years, but he had never found those to be detriments. Far from it.

Fingernails running over books, her almond shaped nails scraping back and forth. It was hypnotic.

"So you're in love then?" Rose asked, her hand stopping on a copy of Infectious Diseases: All that Ills and Kills.

Scorpius gave a half shrug. “I'm not sure if I've ever felt that way for someone I'm involved with, let alone two months in."

"She seems to care about you, though."

"I don't think you should mix physical closeness with deep-seated affection, Rose." He could not seem to stop himself from saying it.

"Are you meaning to say Brad does this?" Rose's eyebrows furrowed and her lips thinned into an unpleasant line. She looked like she was going to start in on him again when they heard a Pop! and then a knock at the door.

"Lily?" they heard a man's voice through the door. Scorpius was not sure who it was, though he sounded familiar.

Rose bolted from the couch to the door and opened it without checking the peep hole, revealing her Uncle Harry. He looked as intense as ever, his green eyes darting about the room; he was wearing his Auror's robes and cut quite the intimidating figure.

"Is Lily in?"

"No, she went to get some tea or something," Rose replied. He strode past her without another word. "Is everything ok?"

He looked slightly disheveled, pale-faced and grim.

"Scorpius," he distractedly said with a nod. Scorpius did not dare say a word. He had only seen her uncle in such a state a few times, and each of those moments had been dire. Whatever had put him in this mood could not be good.

Potter strode to the window and looked down the alley way, then started muttering incantations under his breath, his wand creating silvery threads that spread along every window, every door, and even the floorboards and joints of the ceiling. He had a pair of fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut, and his glasses somewhat askew.

“I’m glad you were both here. We were going to find you next.”

"Uncle Harry, what's wrong?" Rose asked, her eyes wide, and brows knit in concern.

"You two should sit. I'll tell you everything in a moment. Is Lily going to be back soon?"

"She should. Do you want me to page her?"

"Yes. Yes that would be good. I forgot Healers have those now," he said, giving a wave to Rose, who quickly left the room to use the personal furnace in Lily's bedroom. Potter sat without preamble in one of the chairs next to the couch. 

Scorpius had never been alone with her uncle before, that he could remember. He was always a pleasant enough fellow, with a dry sort of humor, but there was something about him that intimidated Scorpius at a gut level. Potter was not much of a talker compared with the rest of his family who, by comparison, were all rather loud and gregarious. Even though Scorpius had been close friends with Al and Rose for years, he had never really talked much with the man.

Potter was leaning over in thought, a hand rubbing his bearded chin. Scorpius gingerly sat at the opposite side of the couch, not wanting to disturb the clearly troubled thoughts of the most powerful wizard alive. He could practically see the fractious energy crackling off of him. Albus looked a great deal like him, but never seemed to have that same intense look in his green eyes. Scorpius always felt like Potter could read minds. He knew the thought was mental, as Potter was not known for any skills in Legilimency, but the disturbing thought crossed his mind all the same. Scorpius' own father had some skills as a Legilimens, but somehow he never worried about him. Perhaps it was just that he did not want to be found wanting by the hero of their generation, or find he had accidentally done something worthy of arrest.

"How are you feeling, Scorpius?" Scorpius nearly jumped, hearing his name come from the Auror.

"I'm fine, sir. Thank you," he answered quickly. He did not like the fact that he had passed out in front of Rose's entire family. He suddenly felt feeble and ashamed. He sat up taller, hoping to prove how able he was.

Potter gave a nod. He did not mention what had happened, which Scorpius was grateful for. Somehow this gave him the courage to ask him, "So, what is going on? Is everyone ok?"

"Yes. For now, at least…" he quietly replied. "Shaw has escaped from Azkaban."

He heard a large gasp. Scorpius looked up to see Lily and Rose standing in the doorway. He only had to glance at Rose to know her mind was reeling with the same phantom memories of screams, spells and blood. Shaw's name had not been uttered for years, but it had lost none of its potency.  
Lily gave a strange shuddering gasp and quickly locked her door and cast a protego spell on it.

"I already cast protective spells, Lily. Your home is safe."

"No one is safe," said Rose, her voice hard.

Scorpius knew she was right.

No one they loved was safe.

Shaw had escaped from Azkaban.


	10. Making Friends

" _And let us all rejoice again, on Christmas Day! On Christmas day! And let us all rejoice again, on Christmas Day in the morning!_ "

"Thanks, Sir Cadogan. I didn't know 'I Saw Three Ships' had  _nine verses,_ " replied Rose, hoping he would take a hint and stop singing.

"Hush, thou knave in maiden's clothing! You are to stay silent for your punishment! Now, another song I rather enjoy goes something like this!  _On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me, a puffskein in a pear tree!_ " he sang in a robust baritone.

Rose let out a low moan before she continued polishing the gold shield award. Her father and uncle had won it back in 1993 for special service to the school. She could not imagine such heroes could ever be found serving detention by polishing trophies. They had been too busy earning them and saving the Wizarding World.

Their gold shield was nothing compared to their giant plaque in the corner. It depicted their younger selves, along with her mother, wands raised nobly in the air. At the bottom of the polished placard the was a vague, but nonetheless harrowing tale of how they helped defeat Voldemort when they had not even completed their seventh year at Hogwarts.

" _Fiiiiiive Golden Snitcheeees!_ " Cadogan belted, his voice unpleasantly bouncing off the walls.

She had never heard the whole story of how they did it. Everyone who knew anything stayed rather tight-lipped about the adventures. Her cousins and Teddy had pieced together what they could, and every time something new was learned, they would share the small snippet of information to further flesh out the tale. Rose had learned inquiring about it directly did not work.

" _On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me-_ "

"Miss Weasley, your detention is over," Rose heard from the doorway. Cauldwell was standing there, his hair parted just as meticulously as usual. She wondered if he had to charm his hair to do that. Would it be rude to ask for hair tips from your Potions professor?

"Thank you for keeping an eye on her, Sir Cadogan."

"T'was an honor to perform my duty!" said Sir Cadogan, bowing so deep he almost lost his balance.

"One more detention to go, Miss Weasley."

"Yes. Am I going to be in the trophy room again, tomorrow?" Rose asked, hoping with all her might the answer would be no.

"I will let your cousin listen to all twelve verses of 'The Days of Christmas', tomorrow," Cauldwell said, a twitch of a smile curling his lip, before disappearing around the corner. Rose had heard of detentions where students were flogged and chained over a hundred years ago. They did not sound so tedious to her. A good flagellation would be almost enjoyable after five hours of being sung at by that tiny knight. It did not help that her parent's legacy was looming in the corner the whole time.

Luckily, as grueling as her detentions had been, Cauldwell never scheduled them very late. It was Saturday night and there were still a few hours until curfew. She had plenty of time to visit Hagrid, who she had not spoken with in over a week. She had come armed with her coat and scarf for the occasion, as well as her Christmas gift for him.

A small amount of snow had begun to fall, and she could hear some of the students caroling as she passed by the Great Hall. Al was having a late supper with his little group, and by the looks of his robes, he had been scrubbing out cauldrons. His friends seemed to be giving him quite a bit of space at the table, each sitting a good yard away from him. Not giving it much thought, she continued to Hagrid's.

Winter was her favorite season. Maybe it was the smell of Christmas in the air, or the snow, or the prospect of not adding to her freckles for a few gloriously overcast months, but being able to cozily watch the snow fall from the comfort of a crackling fire was something she never tired of.

Hagrid's hut had plumes of smoke coming out the chimney. She was about to knock when she heard Hagrid's rumbling laugh and someone else's voice. Not wanting to interrupt if it was important company, she peered in the window to see who it was. To her shock, Scorpius was sitting in one of the oversized chairs, his feet dangling and unable to touch the floor.

"My grandfather didn't care much for that line of questions. I don't think I'll ever be able to study anything about Muggles at this rate."

"You can always take Muggle Studies in yer third year."

"Not likely. They'd definitely know and then I'd get lots of owls and lectures from my grandparents. My parents don't care, really. They just think it's a waste of time. Perhaps I can manage to buy myself a book or something."

"Never thought I'd see a Malfoy interested in Muggles," said Hagrid with a rueful grin. Scorpius gave one of his usual glares, which prompted Hagrid to add, "No offense."

"Well, I've _seen_  Muggles before. I even got to see some up close at King's Cross. I can see them from our townhouse in London sometimes. Their buildings are my favorites. They can make buildings so tall, but without any magic at all. It's amazing."

"I reckon' so. I don't much think on it."

Rose was not sure she wanted to intrude. She had tried to talk to Scorpius a few times since the incident in Potions, but he had been remarkably slippery. Every time she had managed to get within a few feet of him, he'd disappear quick as a snitch. Still, the cold was becoming quite the bother. Perhaps this could be her chance to make amends with Scorpius. Making up her mind, she rapped at the door.

Mop, Hagrid's large Komodor dog which very much resembled its namesake, let out of bark, and jumped on her the moment Hagrid opened the door. He had a piece of drool dangling perilously close to her cheek.

"Rosie! Come in, come in! Mop, get off of her, you dozy beast!" he said shooing the over-sized dog from her. She shook the snow out of her hair and sat in the chair beside Scorpius's.

Hagrid went to the corner to prepare them some tea.

"Hello Scorpius," Rose said in a forcefully genial tone. He nodded in her direction, but his eyes were carefully trained away from hers. "How are you?"

"Fine," he answered, his face stoic.

"Are you looking forward to Christmas break?"

He shrugged in response.

"I know I am," she continued. "We always decorate the tree together. They haven't put so much as a bauble on it, they said. Are you going anywhere? Visiting any relatives?"

"I'm staying home this year."

She found no other answer would be received. After a short pause she added, "Then will you have relatives come to you?"

"I imagine so."

"Your grandparents? Any cousins?"

"I haven't inquired," he said concisely.

Clearly conversation would not flow well between them. He sat there looking forbidding and dour.

Thankfully, Hagrid came over with large tea cups for the pair of them. Rose hoped his presence would coax Scorpius into talking more.

"'So, Scorpius here has been wantin' to learn about Muggles. Got any books like tha', Rosie?"

Scorpius looked positively alarmed at Hagrid spilling this information, his grey eyes wide and brow furrowed.

"Well, I might. I mean, I have books  _by_  Muggles. I could ask my mum if she has some," said Rose, trying to give Scorpius an encouraging smile. Her smile was evidently lost on him, because he did not smile back. His mouth became a thin line.

"Don't do me any favors," he said quickly, standing up (or more accurately, sliding down from) the chair.

"Hagrid, I have to go. Thanks for the company. Please don't mention the Muggle thing with anyone else," he said quickly, shaking Hagrid's hand in his ridiculously formal way. He grabbed his black coat and didn't bother putting it on fully before running out the door, leaving a stunned Rose and Hagrid in his wake.

"Blimey, that was odd," said Hagrid with a shake of his large head.

Rose was now convinced that it would be impossible to make up for her past behavior with Scorpius.

"Well, wanna pasty? Got a basket full of 'em for Christmas," said Hagrid, pointing towards the table. Rose nearly yelped in surprise: She had a basket just like this sitting in her dormitory, the strange note from an anonymous friend still sitting in it.

"Yes please," said Rose, doing her best to stay calm. Hagrid braced his hands on either side of his chair to get up. Not wanting to miss a chance of inspecting the basket closer, Rose cried out, "Oh, I'll get it, Hagrid!"

She quickly inspected for notes, and nearly gave up when she found a small piece of parchment tucked away in the corner of the basket. In the same precise handwriting as the other note it read:

_Happy Christmas, Hagrid  
from Scorpius_

She did not know what to think. There was a flutter of emotions. It was difficult to determine if she found this news pleasurable or painful. There was a thorough satisfaction in knowing who had sent her the anonymous gift and note. Scorpius had been so thoughtful of her on a few occasions now, and she hadn't done anything to make up for her horrible behavior. Her few attempts had been rebuffed with him either fleeing the scene, or becoming stonier than a gargoyle.

He obviously wanted to be friends with her, or he would not have done so many things for her; but the fact that he was making it nearly impossible for her to befriend him again was making her tailspin in anger. How was she supposed to deal with this situation? It was surely hopeless. Maybe he did not want to be friends with her after all. Maybe he was just altruistic for the holidays. Maybe Rose had burned too many bridges for her to ever have friends again.

It was impossible for her to forget his reproof in the halls of the dungeons. " _I have my family being held against me. It's your personality that keeps you from having any friends._ "

"Rosie? You alrigh' over there?" she heard Hagrid ask.

She had been standing at the basket for an undetermined amount of time.

"I'm fine," she called back. She grabbed the basket and a few plates.

"So, Hagrid," she said as she sat down. "How long has Scorpius been visiting you?"

"Since October, was it? Saw the little chap being bullied. Put a stop to tha' right quick. Didn't even know it was a Malfoy, at first. I invited him round fer tea after, and he's been visiting ever since. Don't think he much has any friends."

"No, he doesn't," said Rose looking at her shoes.

He would be friends with her and Al if she had not been such a thistle blossom. She didn't even know he was being bullied. He might have acted like an aloof prat a lot of the time, but he deserved friends. The thought of Scorpius being completely alone, without so much as a sibling or cousin to turn to, made her feel thoroughly guilty.

Rose and Hagrid sat and chatted amicably for well over an hour before she left, but it did not give her the same warm feeling it had before.

She went back the castle with no spring in her step. The air felt cold and dreary, the snow flurries were obnoxiously gathering in her eyelashes, and she felt like taking a sprig of holly and stabbing someone with it.

There had to be a way to reach out an olive branch to Scorpius. She was determined. And when Rose Weasley was determined... Well, nothing would happen, really, but she was stubborn enough to make something happen.

Stubbornness and determination were two adjectives that had a lot of crossover, but she never felt she deserved to be called determined. It made her a heroine, and she was never the heroine. Heroines were always determined and cool. She was stubborn and hot headed. But surely, just this once, she could play the heroine and be determined. She needed to rescue someone, desperately.

She arrived at the common room, determined (and not stubborn) in her pursuit of a solution.

Her solution was sprawled across a couch normally occupied by many students. There seemed to be an invisible perimeter around him that no one wanted to intrude on.

Al glanced up at her then put his head back down on the cushion.

"I smell like pickled rat sphincters. You might want to avoid me," he said in a miserable voice.

"Have you tried taking a shower?"

"Yes. Two of them. Lots of shampoo. Still smell. Was kicked out of the dorm."

Rose took an experimental whiff and immediately regretted her decision.

"Oh! I didn't know smells like that were possible."

"They are. I have become an unimaginable smell," he said resignedly. "I'm going to be known as sphincter boy. It's inevitable. Kill me."

Rose rolled her eyes.

"Don't say that nickname around James or it'll stick. There has to be a cure for the smell. Otherwise, Cauldwell wouldn't have you cleaning something that rancid."

"Perhaps that's my real punishment. Having to smell like this for all of eternity."

"When Mum taught us about the Governing Board of Hogwarts's rules, she said professors aren't allowed to give punishments that have lasting effects such as scars or anything like that anymore. I'm sure smells count."

Rose quickly retrieved some of her textbooks to look up a cure for his smelly condition. As she flipped through the pages of 'Introductory Charms' she brought up the subject of Scorpius.

"He's been bullied and doesn't have any friends. Perhaps you could befriend him?"

"Yeah, whatever," Al said, distracted. "Oh my God, Rosie, don't make me smell like flowers. That's worse. Get rid of the smell, don't mask it with girly flowery scents!"

"Fine, no flowers!" Rose barked, becoming impatient. "He won't have anything to do with me, Al. I treated him horribly. He needs a friend. Promise me you'll try to befriend him."

"Subtract, subtract! Don't add smells! Why do I smell like roast beef?"

"Everyone deserves friends, Al!"

"I can think of many people who don't," Al harrumphed.

Rose prodded him hard in the side with her wand. "Promise you'll help!"

"Oh, of course I will! I've never had a problem with him, if you recall. Stubborn witch."

"I am a determined and persistent heroine, today," said Rose, her freckled nose held aloft. If she imagined hard enough, it was unblemished by her freckles.

"I'll call you whatever you like. Please, just make me smell normal again," he moaned. It took a few spells (one of which made daffodils come out of his ears) but he smelled like a relatively normal human being in the end.

The next day Rose determinedly dogged Al to find Scorpius and do something. As they sat eating breakfast they both watched the doors of the Great Hall for the pale blonde. Rose watched, while Al tried to enjoy his breakfast for some reason. How he could contentedly stare into oblivion and munch toast at time like this, she had no idea.

"Why aren't you doing something Al? You promised."

"Rose, we have detention in a moment at separate locations. I doubt we'll have time to see him before we all go home in four hours."

"Home? Rats! I forgot."

"You've been counting the days until you can decorate the tree..."

"It's hard to be excited about going home when I haven't fixed this whole Scorpius problem."

"He'll still be in school in two weeks."

"If he hasn't transferred! He might be so miserable he'll transfer to Beauxbatons over the break. And it will be my fault," said Rose, a fretful look taking over her face. She knew what it was like to be miserable and have no friends.

"Rose. You know how Fred said that our family is prone to being over-dramatic?"

"I am NOT being over-dramatic, Albus!" she hissed.

"Fine. Why don't you go away and 'NOT be over-dramatic' somewhere else. I want to enjoy my breakfast, and I am tired of you glaring at me for not being as worked up about this as you are."

"Fine then, I will!"

She petulantly joined her cousin Dominique at the Ravenclaw table. She hoped being at the table closest to the Slytherins she might spot Scorpius, but no such luck. She did not see him enter the hall at all. She served detention at her designated location, which was in the Potions lab by herself. When it was time to leave the castle, she made Al stand watch for Scorpius on the platform until they were forced onto the train by Professor Sinistra just in time for the train to lurch towards London.

"He must have left from Hogsmeade, then," said Al, not looking particularly worried. Rose nodded and silently followed Al to their compartment.

Many a cousin visited their cabin. James made a point of bringing in some Hufflepuff girls she didn't know. They were all second years, and looked rather disappointed when they realized James had brought them in to be friends with his loser cousin, and not to hang with him and his much cooler group of friends. The girls tried to smile and catch the eyes of James and Fred, but Fred kept his face in a schooled bored look, and James kept trying to get them to talk to Rose.

After the third lull in conversation, James kicked them out, blithely telling them, "You're far too boring to be friends with. Out you go!"

Rose saw one of the girls start to get tears in her eyes. Albus saw this as well, and went to make sure she was alright. He was quite used to picking up the pieces from his brother's lack of tact.

"James, you made that one girl cry," Fred noted, though he didn't seem to particularly care.

"I was just telling her the truth. It's one of those life lessons she needed. She's only in second year. Years later she'll grow tits and a personality, and be perfectly tolerable. She can even date Albus then. He doesn't have a problem with weepy boring people. Probably because he is one," said James with a shrug. Rose did her best to avoid punching her cousin.

"James, it's not that I don't appreciate what you're trying to do, but I think it's time you give up on this. I'll make friends when I make them," said Rose, hoping this would bring an end to his embarrassing tactics.

"Don't be such a quitter, Rose. If I had your attitude, I wouldn't be the Quidditch star I am today. I'll get you friends before the year is out!" he said with a commanding air before marching into the corridor.

"Great," Rose said, sinking further into her cushion.

Fred gave her a pat on the shoulder.

"I would say 'I'll talk him out of this,' but we both know I'd be lying."

"I know," said Rose with a pout.

Al failed to come back, so Rose got out a book to read. It was a gripping story of a medieval witch who went on to save a village from an evil clan of goblins. The motion of the train and lack of company soon lulled Rose to sleep.

She had a sword she would wield to defend the weak. A pale blond boy had his school supplies stolen, and she quickly scared the third years away with her gleaming sword. They both got on a dragon with Hagrid and flew to Egypt, where they had tea with a mummy.

She woke up to someone poking her in the side.

"Tell me 'bout the Quidditch, Rosie!"

"Huh?"

She opened her eyes to see Hugo and Al standing in front of her.

"Found him looking for you," said Al, pointing to Hugo who was now standing on the bench seat with his face planted firmly against the window pane. He was making faces at the crowd, but no one seemed to notice him.

Aunt Ginny had been the one to pick them up. Rose's parents and Uncle Harry all had been too busy with something at the Ministry.

"What could possibly be so important that all three of them are needed there on a Sunday?" James said in the car, clearly put out.

The ministry never required people on Sundays unless it was something very important, Rose thought in a sudden panic. She could only remember her father working a few weekends her whole life, and it was always under dire circumstances.

James either did not realize how serious this was, or was too selfish to care. Lily was contentedly sitting next to Al hugging his arm, while Hugo asked inane questions about everything Rose had learned at school. She perfunctorily answered, all the while wondering when it was she last read a newspaper. Was something happening at the ministry? Was her father having to go and do a raid? The thought made her stomach begin to ache.

"There was a bit of a scuffle at the ministry. Nothing to worry about, though. They'll just have lots of paperwork, I'd wager," Aunt Ginny replied, catching Rose's eye in the rearview mirror.

This did nothing to soothe Rose's nerves. James made a face and crinkled his eyebrows, clearly not believing his mother either. Of all her adult relatives, Aunt Ginny probably had the best poker face of them all, so it was no use probing for information. Rose stared out the window, watching the trees and telephone posts whizz past too quickly to count. If only the time would fly as fast!

"How long until we get there?" Rose asked.

"Not long. Patience is a virtue," Ginny answered.

This was a phrase her family told her with exasperating persistence. It was a virtue Rose was not familiar with. Hugo was, though. He always seemed able to happily wait his turn, wait for presents, and wait for news.

Perhaps this was why he succeeded with chess so thoroughly. She thought herself smart, but chess was something she had no mind for. She liked being able to consistently reap the benefits of tried and true methods. Each game was different, with far too many decisions, and too much thinking ahead. Dizzying possibilities was a natural state of mind for her, and she did not think it an amusing past time to willingly add more to her mind.

When they finally reached the house, signs of tension had left everyone except Rose. They fell into playing Quidditch in the back yard, while Rose watched from the broom shed. She felt it was almost indecent to be enjoying her time playing Quidditch while her father was in certain peril.

James took relish in showing off the drills he ran on the Quidditch team and Hugo ate them up, naturally picking up everything James made them do. Al seemed to be good as well, though he did not find the joy in taking orders that Hugo did. After being corrected by his brother a third time, Al rolled his eyes and flew to the broom shed.

"Oi! We're not done!" James yelled across the field.

"I am!" replied Al, giving him a rude gesture.

"You're not allowed to do that, Al!" Lily called back, futilely checking for scandalized bystanders.

"No telling, Lilibeast!" Al called back.

"Don't call me that!" Lily wailed.

"Lilibeast! Hah!" Hugo laughed.

"Thanks a lot, Al! You've got the whole team in an uproar. See if I let you on the Quidditch team when I'm captain!"

"See if I care, James!"

Rose gestured Al over to her.

"I swear, getting on the team has made his head bigger. If it grows any more I might need to lance it like a boil," Al grumbled as he put his broom away.

"I don't care about that. I care about our dads. They never have to work on a Sunday. This is really bad, Al."

"You think so?" Al asked, his brow furrowing.

"They could be in a raid or there could be an attack somewhere or-"

"Bloody bastards!" came a familiar cry from the house.

"It's Dad!" exclaimed Rose, cantering to the house, Al close behind her. They peered in the window.

Her father stood in the kitchen, red faced, covered in scorch marks and blood. Harry looked in a similar state, while her mother had an armload of papers she was trying to organize on the table.

Al made to go in when Rose stopped him.

"Wait! We need to find out what happened. They'll never tell us."

"I can get some extendable ears from James," he said pointing to his brother who was showing off loopdeloops for Lily and Hugo.

"No time!" she said gesturing for Al to follow her.

They snuck through the mudroom, and edged behind a curtain in the kitchen. She knew they would not tell them what was happening. They had snuck in just in time to hear another voice perturb the room. She hadn't seen him from the window, but a fourth figure sat at the table. It was the secretary to the Minister, Maximilian- or Mili, as he was called. The nickname made him sound much nicer than he was.

Mili was a strange, somber man. He was handsome, with high cheekbones and fine features, and dark, closely cropped hair, but he seemed as cold in demeanor as his pale eyes would suggest. He had worked at the ministry for years, and was a trusted advisor in troubled times. He was a few years younger than her parents, but somehow seemed much older than anyone Rose had met. Perhaps it was because she had never seen anyone with any youth so unsmiling and without folly.

Rose knelt down to the floor, and dared to peek out from behind the curtain to better see their faces. Her father's wounds looked much more severe up close.

Dad wiped at his brow with the back of his sleeve, seemingly more irked that blood was obscuring his vision than concerned with tending the deep gash.

"This one was different, Harry. I've seen rallies get out of hand before, but never this quick."

"Well, Ganit Mendel is a very good speaker and they're angry. They have a right to be," said Mum.

"Yes, but do they really think starting a bloody riot and attacking Aurors is going to win any one over?"

Harry crossed his arms and looked down. Al did this sometimes. Rose knew it meant there was something he was refraining from saying. They were very similar like that: They always had more on their mind than they said. Both seemed very transparent, but really they were very private people, who had much more going on in their mind than they let on. At times James and Lily seemed to have this trait, but they somehow seemed less fathomless when they left things unsaid than Al or Harry.

Rose was like her father and mother. Very little was left unsaid. If they had a thought, they let it be known for everyone.

"Ron, these are Muggleborns who went through so much," said Mum. "Of course they take issue with laws and customs that are obviously biased against them. I think it's a righteous indignation over what the ministry has done in the past, and how we still treat Muggles as inferior. We can pretend, but Muggleborns still face prejudice all the time. Many of these people lost everything, were imprisoned, lost their family-"

"Don't act like we don't understand, Hermione," Dad said, looking like he was holding back a good bit of anger. "The point is, they are taking it too far. Good men are in St Mungo's right now because of that 'righteous indignation,' some of them Muggleborn. They're acting like a wounded dragon, blindly burning everything around them."

Mum looked like she was going to argue when Harry raised a hand to silence them. Usually he was rather unassuming around his home, but right now he looked every bit a leader who could defeat a Dark Lord.

"What do you say we do, then?" asked Harry, his expression dark.

"Sir, if I may be so bold-" said Mili, who had remained silent until now. Dad rolled his eyes. He always seemed to have little patience for Mili. He said he was like a 'humorless Percy.'

Harry nodded for Mili to continue.

"I can guess where you stand with this. You sympathize with their cause."

"We all bloody do, Mili," Dad said with a snort.

"They should be sympathized with. Your feelings do you credit, sir," Mili said, giving a respectful nod. Dad looked unimpressed with this. He never had much patience for unctuous praise.

"Despite your noble feelings, the stance of the Law is firm. They performed unlawful acts. They should be condemned."

"Their actions- but not their stances should be condemned, Mili," Mum said firmly. "They were asking for the government to show they understand, in the end. It devolved into violence because they are frustrated with no one representing them! Harry, perhaps if we could convince Kingsley to be more vocal, or if you could say-"

"All of this is politics. I'm just here to enforce the law. Why would anyone care what I feel about it?" Harry said quietly.

"Whether you like it or not, The Wizarding World looks to you in times like this," Mum argued. "If you could say something to the press, perhaps they'd see they have someone standing up for them, they would not look to people like Mz Ganit Mendel "

"If the Ministry shows any sympathy to their cause, it will ignite more violent protests, sir," Mili advised. "They would think their violence was able to prod their government into action. People do not understand the subtleties of this situation. Either you are condoning or condemning the violent faction. There is no in between with people."

"People are smart enough to-" Mum protested.

"A person is. A few persons are reasonable. But people... They are foolish and ignore the complexities of these situations. A person reads a complex article and comprehends it. People read headlines. They want a headline, and a headline is too short for complexities."

"He's right, Harry," said Dad, looking grim.

"But if he sympathizes with their cause, and can make a difference he should-"

"This specific group is beyond sympathy, now. If you show any to them in the press, it will confuse people. They might not know which side is in the right. It's best you make it clear these actions will not be tolerated, no matter what cause is behind them. The less said from you, the better."

"Perhaps if Harry would rally for a more positive way of expressing outrage-"

"Harry has done more than enough rallying for everyone. He defeated Voldemort. If they don't know he's on their side, they're morons," said Dad.

"Ma'am, we need to continue to aid peace. Publicly, stay stoic. Privately, do what you can to make things right. You are a powerful and persuasive woman. Show the guilds why they need to change their views. But until this violence ends, nothing can be changed. We'd be seen as giving into a violent mob's demands. And when they think violence leads to solutions, it sets a precedence that will leave us in a chaotic world."

"That, or they'll become even more desperate and violent, thinking it's the only way they can finally get our attention," Mum countered.

"Enough," said Harry, voice full of authority. "For now, I'm leaving this to Kingsley. We can discuss this with him tomorrow and think of solutions. I think we should be lenient with those arrested, but right now we have an urgent matter at our feet. We have a spies amongst us."

Rose startled when she saw Harry turn his green gaze down to her and Al. Mum and Dad looked rather non-plussed about it. Probably because she and Al had a record for spying on them.

"Sir, I'm sorry, I thought the room was secure," Mili said, his head bowed deeply. Dad, Mum and Harry shared amused glances.

"It is. I doubt Rose and Al will go to the press with this," Harry said, giving a chuckle.

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to spy," Rose stumbled. Dad raised an eyebrow at her. "I just wanted to know why you weren't home. It had to be bad for you to be gone on a Sunday."

"Well, we're sorry to have worried you," said Harry kindly. They all looked like they had more to discuss, particularly Mili.

Harry gave a sigh. "I'm famished. We'll talk about all this tomorrow."

Mili moved to protest.

"It's been a long day for everyone, and I want to spend time with my family. Go home and do the same," he said with finality.

"Would that I could," said Mili, giving a nod to Harry before leaving through their kitchen door. Rose didn't think he had a family to spend Christmas with, or at least any who would want to spend time with him, being a thoroughly disagreeable fellow.

"You two, had no business listening to all that," her father said, taking her and Al by the arms to the living room.

"If they didn't want us to hear it, they should have checked the room better before it was perturbed," Rose muttered to Al.

Dad gave them a frown and crossed his arms. Al took a few paces back, but Rose stood her ground.

"Well, you embarrassed Mili, so I suppose I can't be too mad at the pair of you," Dad said with a grin before wincing a bit and glancing at his forehead with concern for the first time.

"It's bleeding a lot," Al said as Dad tentatively poked at it.

"So it is. If you could get your aunt to come in here and heal me up, that'd be grand," he said, sitting down next to the fire. "And both of you, don't tell the younger ones about this. It'd just worry them."

Rose went to the door but was stopped by Dad.

"It's good to have my favorite daughter back."

"I'm your only daughter!"

"We'll decorate the tree when we get home," he said with a pained grin.

Rose nodded before retrieving her Mum to help with her father's wounds.

Aunt Ginny was already helping Harry with his, though she made a point of telling him he was an idiot for not having proper healers do it.

"And have the press hounding away about why I was at St. Mungo's over a few scratches? No thanks," said Harry.

"Next time you come into the house with an untended wound, you're healing it yourself," Ginny said before prodding her wand in his leg to heal it, probably with more force than necessary.

Everyone was fully healed and cleaned before they called the rest of the children in, and they all ate dinner. When asked by Lily, they all said paperwork was why they had been delayed at the ministry.

They spent the evening putting ornaments on the tree. Her dad even let her demonstrate a wingardium leviosa on some of them when her Mum was out of the room. There was a set of ornaments with different constellations on them that Rose was very fond of. She was about to hang one with the constellation 'Scorpio' when she was reminded of Scorpius. She had forgotten about him in all the hubbub.

"Mum, do we have any books on Muggles we don't need anymore?" Rose asked.

"We always have an overabundance of books around here. Did you have a particular subject in mind?"

"Something about buildings, maybe?"

"Yes, I think so..."

Her Mum quickly looked through their shelves in the hallway, before returning with two medium sized paperback books.

"Can you spell them so the titles look like they're about something else?" Rose asked.

"Yes, but why?"

Rose hesitated. Should she tell her parents about Scorpius? Dad had made it very clear how he felt about the Malfoy family. He had dozed off in one of the oversized chairs near the fire, overcome by pure exhaustion.

"Well," Rose whispered. Even if he was asleep, she decided it would be safer to discuss the delicate matter with her mother in a hushed tone. "I think I may have been wrong about Scorpius. He's actually quite nice. He helped me a few times, really, and I want to pay him back. I heard him tell Hagrid he likes Muggle buildings and wants to learn more about them, but I don't want him getting in trouble with his family over the books."

Her Mum seemed to understand completely, because she quickly put a glamor charm on the the covers and helped Rose package them nicely and express owl it, as well. Rose wrote a quick note on her best stationary.

_Dear Scorpius,  
Thank you for the basket of sandwiches you gave me the other day. They were delicious, and the ribbon was my very favorite color._

_I found some books you might find interesting, though the covers would make you think otherwise. I could not find you on the Hogwart's Express. You are coming back to Hogwarts, right? I hope so. Perhaps we can share a cabin on the train again?_

-Rose

An hour or so later the owl returned with a note. Dad woke up and inquired what it was, but Mum just said 'a note from a ministry coworker,' which was plausible enough. She discretely handed it to Rose a moment later.

Rose ran to their hallway to read it.

 _Rose,_  
Thank you for the books. I imagine I'll enjoy them very much. Perhaps we can discuss them on the way back to Hogwarts. I will be on the Express this time. Save me a seat?  
-S

Rose had not fully felt the holiday spirit until this moment.

After the tree was finished, Rose and Hugo laid underneath it to stare up at all the fairy lights.

"I missed you so much when you were at school, Rosie," said Hugo.

"I missed you all too."

"Did you make any friends there?"

Rose thought for a moment about Scorpius. He wanted her to save him a seat on the Hogwarts Express.

"I think I  _have_  made a friend," said Rose with a grin.


End file.
